Obliterated
by Kreek
Summary: Sheppard has to confront his worst fears when he fails to keep Rodney safe. Shep & McKay whump. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **The characters of SG-Atlantis don't belong to me. This is a non-profit story, written for fun only. Most names and places belong to the creators of the computer game "dungeon siege".

**Beta: **Starsky's Strut who over the course of nine months never got tired of helping me out with this story. If it wasn't for her, this story wouldn't have been here. With the first few chapters I also got help from Llanea. **Proofread: **by Skandranonn.

**Rating: **A very high T

**Warnings: **Shep whump, McKay whump, psychological and physical, though nothing too graphic. Spoilers through season four, particularly Miller's Crossing. Some mild swearing._  
_**  
Characters: **Sheppard and McKay. Mostly a Sheppard driven story.

**Genre: **Drama, Angst, Gen.

**Status:** Finished in 16 chapters. Without the author's notes app. 45900 words.

**Summary: **Sheppard has to confront his worst fears when he fails to keep McKay safe.

**Author's notes:** I started this story last year as a McKay story, but somehow it turned into this HUGE character driven Sheppard story. The McKay whump is still there though. There's also whips, bracelets, mines, friendship, freaky ore, and a bit of comfort during the run home. Obliterated is a very emotional intense story (for the characters), so be warned. I've never before put so much time in editing a story as I have with this one. The writing for me, was as intense as the story. Still if there are any mistakes left, they're all mine.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Obliterated  
**Kreek©September08

**Chapter 1**

John tried. He really tried. But the air, so hot it stole his breath away, scorched, seared and drained the moist from his body, leaving him feeling as dry as when the wraith had sucked the life out of him. _This is just slower… way slower._ He remembered the desert conditions back in Afghanistan. And yes, there had been scorching sandstorms, but not like this, on this alien planet where gusts of winds felt like they were burning his lungs to a crisp when he faced the wrong direction. His fingers tightened over the bandana covering his mouth; through squinting eyelids he surveyed the desolate landscape.

They were hunted.

Behind him, low grunts of huge shaggy beasts rumbled over the planes. The men rode fast, tiny figures on top of brown fur that gave the animal a bison-like look closed in with every step John took.

In front of him Rodney toppled over, falling on his knees on the unforgiving rocky surface, a sole figure in a sea of red stone. "I can't," he gasped as John stepped up beside him, grabbing his friend by the arm.

John lowered his bandana. "You have to!"

"Why?" Rodney's voice sounded hoarse, raspy from lack of water and exhaustion. His body trembled beneath John's fingers. "They took… our GDO's! Even if we can get to the Stargate, we can't…" He heaved, taking another gasping breath. "And the Eirulans are…. They're just… I mean… who would have thought…" Winds tore at their clothing, leaving exposed skin feeling hot and red and burning. McKay doubled over in an attempt to get cooler air inside.

"I know! That's why we have to keep moving!" Their pursuers were nearly on top of them. John tried to keep them safe, tried to keep hiding, to confuse their tracks, to even leap off a cliff into the muddy riverbed back at the edge of these scorching lands, but it was all in vain. The Eirulans were as vigilant as a posse and short of leaving Rodney alone to create a diversion; it was all Sheppard could do to keep moving.

McKay had warned him this planet's rotation stirred severe winds and extreme climate changes. Sure enough when they had crossed this barren land this morning in the opposite direction there weren't any winds. Besides, they'd been sitting comfortably in one of the Eirulan's wagons escorting them from the gate towards the town now miles behind them.

Returning along the same route they had traversed earlier by wagon, John figured that this dried riverbed was probably all that was left of a once huge meandering waterway, a river easily rivaling the make of the Amazon. The cliff face ahead of them looked miles away. Hot air clawed at his face, hands, fingers, any exposed skin, and made him sweat profusely in his Atlantis issue jacket, but he didn't dare take it off because he doubted his shirt alone would provide ample protection against these burning winds. Even though in good shape, Rodney was having an even harder time dealing with this climate.

John tugged at his friend's sleeve again. "Quit with the doom and gloom, McKay! Get up! That's an order!" He cursed at the fear trickling through his voice. Perhaps Rodney missed it, or perhaps it was the one thing galvanizing him into action, for the man slowly put his feet back under him and John hauled him up. "Look, we still have our radios, we can-"

"John!" McKay interrupted as their hands caught to steady themselves. He yelled over the roaring winds while desperately trying to keep standing. Their eyes met. "You have to promise me-"

"No! We'll get to the gate. We can do this, Rodney!" He gripped his friend tighter and started stumbling ahead, pulling McKay after him. Shooting a quick glance over his shoulder, he noticed the riders were already coming up over the last ridge they had taken.

John trembled, knowing their chances tumbled with every passing second. The Stargate was located in the caves ahead of them. Squinting, he scouted the distance and could just make out the cliff face on the horizon, a jagged wall of rock cut out of the earth by the once fast flowing river, as if someone had raked the land with a massive claw, leaving a stony plain as hot as the howling wind. On the upside, he'd seen enough of the life sucking aliens to know they liked their weather humid. For the same reason John couldn't take a jumper –the maze of caves prevented this nicely- the Wraith couldn't bring their darts through the gate. _There's no way a Wraith on foot can catch up with the Eirulans in a climate like this,_ _especially when the natives ride these damn shaggy animals_.

The howling wind was broken by the grunts of the coarse furred beasts, which McKay had grimly called 'Banthas' as they resembled the creatures ridden by the 'Sandpeople' in the Star Wars movies. Only these animals were far more agile, and way faster. There was no slow lumbering forward. They sped through the rough terrain as fast as one of his father's expensive Arabian horses.

John's heart sank into his stomach as he realized they wouldn't make it. He looked around for something, anything that could give them a fighting chance. Spotting his goal, he pulled McKay to the right until he reached one of the few men-sized boulders strewn sparsely across the landscape and pushed the scientist against its reddish jagged surface. It was all the cover he could provide for now. In the shadow of the giant stone, Rodney's eyes flicked to catch his attention, blue, bright and full of panic. "John! You can't let them… Oh God! Promise me you won't let them-"

Even for McKay, this level of fright was rare. It was easy to pick up on, easy, because he felt it himself: an ugly kind of fear that froze his heart and made him slam down all his defenses, ready to fight. What could he do but nod his assent? "Not while I'm alive," he grunted, not sure if McKay heard him. He pulled out his 9mm. Man, he would have loved to have the P-90 about now.

The hunt's purpose was a simple one. They wanted McKay. These people wanted him compliant, wanted his mind, his free will and had devised a most horrible way to get it. John coughed as the animals' heavy musk-like smell penetrated his senses. The beasts moved into a circle, surrounding them, actually providing some leeway against the storm. Their riders carrying slings, sticks and bows, weapons that could do a lot of damage, but at least were not unsurpassable. The gun might impress them, or if he shot one of the banthas, the rest might scare and stampede. He aimed. "Stay. Right. There!" His voice didn't carry the command presence it should have had as the winds trailed his words away, but he made damn sure it sounded serious.

The man on the biggest animal, probably the leader, raised his hand. Above the rushing air John was aware of McKay's rasped breathing.

"You're a valiant warrior," the guy dressed in brown fabric running the length of his body spoke coldly. One by one his riders dismounted. Dark, almost black eyes pierced between the linen wrapped around his head. "But you can't win."

"You bet your ass I can. BACK OFF!" He fired. The bullet ricocheted off the stone in front of the man's feet. The banthas made a shocked neighing noise and the men on the ground froze.

All but one.

There was a movement to John's left and he whipped around just as a high wheezing sound lashed through the air. A gut wrenching pain cut through his lower arm. Screaming, he dropped his weapon as the agony spread through his mind, his senses, swiping solid ground from underneath his feet. His legs buckled and his knees hit rock as his vision narrowed.

"Sheppard!"

McKay's anxious shout obliterated the walls of darkness, snapping him out of the bliss that unconsciousness so readily provided. Gasping, he looked up through watery eyes, hand wrapped around his sore left wrist. He hadn't counted on these guys sporting anything more advanced than slingshots and arrows. His eyes widened at the grip one of the Eirulans was holding. A long thin light slithered from the handle, its white tip twitching cruelly back and forth like an angry rattle snake. _What the hell is that?! _

Something warm pressed against his shoulder. Through the spots plaguing his vision, he found the source. Leaning in to steady him, McKay shot daggers at the man with the colorful weapon, clarifying John's question. "A laser whip? You have a laser whip? No, no, no, no, no," Rodney's acerbic tone leveled off into fright just as a rushing noise drew John's attention.

The rest of the pack moved in.

Lifting his hands, McKay backed off.

A surge of adrenaline cleared John's head and with a shout he attempted to stand up. But their attackers were fast. They were everywhere, beating him down, gripping his arms, his legs, and his sore wrist. Pain flashed just as quickly as the frantic fear he felt at what the Eirulans had planned.

"No, you can't… " McKay's voice trailed off in a panic.

Fighting flesh, bone and lean bodies, Sheppard desperately tried to reach his friend. Even with the odds against him, his military training paid off. Slipping through a few hands, he managed to scramble to his feet just as the Eirulans got a firm hold of Rodney and proceeded to drag him over to their leader.

McKay released a high whimpering sound and struggled, demanding they let him go.

"Rodney!" John heard his own voice… far off…. A kick in his stomach sent him doubling over, pain rippled through him, crippling him into a paralyzing stupor. _No, Dammit. NO! NO, they can't do this! It would mean… He would lose…_

For a moment he caught McKay's eyes, so full of life, the fear in them reinforcing his struggles, but the six pair of hands holding John down felt like concrete and he couldn't break free. He more felt than heard the click.

A metal bracelet snapped shut on his friend's wrist. Sheppard watched as the scientist's eyes drained. His fear, his anger… it all left him, pummeled down by the metal gadget designed to keep their victims in check, to control the really smart ones and enslave their minds for the good of the Settlement.

Rodney still fought.

John could see it in pools of blue briefly flashing with a whole range of emotions. But the bracelet was too strong and in the end his friend let out a soft sob.

"NO! You sons of bitches!" John pulled, causing grips to tighten painfully on his flesh when the Eirulans forced him to quiet his movements. A bitter bile rose in his throat as their attackers let Rodney sink to the ground where he lay on the red rock surface, shaking from head to toe. Tears slid down the scientist's cheeks. John gritted his teeth, could tell Rodney lost the fight. The cruel twitches that wrecked his friend's body slowly subsided. Eyes squinting, shining with sheer stubbornness, McKay sought him out and held his gaze. He could only watch in horror, as the scientist opened his mouth only to gasp and cringe with pain. Another sob, a soft sigh, and Rodney finally gave in.

His eyes closed.

John stared at his friend lying still on the rocky riverbed; a small lump of human between huge furry paws, leather wrapped feet and the butt ends of sharp spears. Like an animal being discarded in the desert. Something ugly clenched his heart, tightened his chest and wiped out all compassion he had for these people.

A gruff figure stepped into view. "We're sorry, but he needed to be purged," the leader spoke aloof.

A choking rage caused bitter words to leave his mouth. "You might as well kill him. He's not one of your people!" He glared at the man with his near black eyes. "You can't just put chains and walls around his mind and expect him to cooperate!"

Unfazed, the leader took back what was apparently his whip. "He's way too dangerous to let loose. My people have learned to restrict a mind like his. We simply mold it to suit the Settlement using a safely controlled procedure."

"It'll kill him! He can't live like that!"

The guy didn't answer, just turned and walked away. "Be lucky you're a soldier, Sheppard. Be content with that."

Feeling the hands loosen, John dove forward in a desperate bit to get between McKay and the men now picking his friend up from the barren rock. Instantly a bright light snared his vision, ripping his flesh apart from shoulder to elbow. With a scream he fell to the ground.

_Promise me… you won't let them put those things on me, ever. God, Sheppard. You have no idea what they do… how destructive they are!_

The wind howled around him, seemingly shouting Rodney's words at him. Pain flared, accumulated in a sea of white and enveloped him.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's notes:**__ thank you all so much for the reviews, the faving and alerting. I really hadn't expected the interest to be that high. You made me feel all warm inside! Now, the downside of starting with a bang is that I had to work in the exposition (you know, how they got to that point) afterwards. I tried to keep up the angst, but at the same time, I needed to get a lot of basic information across. So, that's what's chapters 2 and 3 are about. A lot of story build up, basically. I hope you stick with me for these chapters._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 2 **

John shifted. Regaining consciousness was like climbing out of a pool of muddy water; the viscose substance sucked him back down every time he fought for strength. Normally his sheer will to survive revived him pretty quickly, but his zest to join the land of the living had abandoned him. That was until a sharp pain lanced from his left arm into his shoulder blades, waking him with a gasp.

He felt more than heard the low moan emerging from his throat, then vibrating through clattering teeth. He lay still for a second, knowing he should see to the wound but couldn't make himself move again. Hell, he was lucky if he stayed conscious. Even with his eyes closed, the glare of the sun reinforced the dozens or so pike men stabbing sharp lances at the inside of his skull and he waited until the world stopped swimming around him. With effort he managed to control the pain and then dredge up enough energy to lift his body from the ground.

The maneuver left him exhausted. _Okay, okay… Just, stay on your knees for a while here, John. _

He lowered his head, immediately noticing what was left of two sets of radios lying scattered, squashed, and broken amidst small rocks. _Damn. _The large boulder to where he had dragged McKay had provided meager shelter when he'd fallen unconscious, keeping him covered against the scorching wind, which he supposed was a small comfort, for all the good it did. But he still felt pretty lousy.

Cramps shot from wrist to shoulder making him grip his arm tightly. Carefully he lifted his hand to inspect the wound and grimaced at the sight. The whip had left a cut from lower arm to shoulder and though not touching the bone, the edges were raw and bleeding. _Not cauterized though. These guys knew what they were doing. _

Even though the trauma didn't look too serious, John knew better than to underestimate the effect of an alien weapon. Sure, they'd been running through desert conditions that made the Sahara look like a Californian beach, but the lack of food and water today just couldn't account for how drained he felt. Not when he'd been wounded worse in the past and felt like he had more fight left in him then, than he did now. With cold dread he suspected that the whip had zapped away more than flesh alone.

Forcing his fingers to work, he pulled the bandana from his neck, and tied off the wound as well as he could. _Better get moving if you want to help McKay. _He gritted his teeth and put his feet beneath him. Wavering on shaking legs, he moved forward, one foot at a time. He was going to make it through this desert. Out of this smoldering heat and into the caves at the foot of the mountain where the Stargate was located.

With each dragging step, events skimmed his memory, causing images to ripple to the surface, making him acutely aware of when exactly this mission had gone to hell…

* * *

Warily John eyed the metallic bracelet that Rodney had picked up. Arax, Eirulan's slender blond representative, who had given them a ride from the gate to the trading town, recognized McKay's sudden interest in the gleaming jewelry and waited patiently. The bracelet was one among a litany of items offered up for trade at the stalls occupying the market square. John knew better than to try and curb Rodney's enthusiasm when the scientist's scanner went all bananas, lighting up as happily as McKay did.

"Sheppard, this is amazing! There's some kind of ore integrated into the iron wrist band. The energy signature indicates a powerful mind numbing effect, but only on a certain frequency. In fact… if I'm right…" He looked up, surveying the people around them as if searching for something.

John turned his head, unsure what his friend was looking for. On this side of the riverbed, rocky hills lay scattered on its banks. The town sat snuggly among them, stone structures blending in with the surrounding countryside. This settlement was no more than a glorified trading post, obviously erected a few hours from the gate on the opposite bank to keep up trade relations. What intrigued him was that these people didn't seem to be nomads, meaning they must have some sort of defense against the Wraith. Either that or they went underground. Which wasn't too far a leap considering the presence of the cave system in which the gate was located.

All around them, people dressed in either bland or colorful robes were busy buying or selling goods, walking among the stalls, or had a bite to eat at one of the food stands near the stone dwellings. The smell wafting over him from one particular eating joint directly behind them wasn't exactly appealing and he wrinkled his nose, actually feeling relieved for once that McKay had stocked up on his energy bars as he did before every mission. John would never admit this, but the scientist's need for sugar supplies had pulled his team through on more than one occasion when native dining facilities were simply not there, or hazardous to their health. Sure, they had their Air Force rations, but still… nothing better than to sink your teeth into a power bar when you were trekking for over an hour across unknown terrain.

Rodney's eyes settled on Arax.

John's enthusiasm rose as he suddenly knew what it was McKay was looking for.

Their guide nodded, bemusement crinkling his youthful features. "You are correct Doctor McKay." He lifted a hand, showing the gleaming metallic device around his wrist. "The 'rings of repulse' are rare, only carried by those chosen to defend the Settlement and those well off enough to deserve their protection."

"Protection?" John leaned in to study the bracelet. The metal band, wide enough to encompass the wrist, had a distinct blue streak shining through its surface and showed no visible locking mechanism. It offered some physical protection, but somehow John doubted that this was what Arax meant.

"Colonel," Rodney spoke. The excitement in his voice drew John's attention back to his friend. "These devices specifically act on the Wraith's telepathic frequency," Eyes wide with enthusiasm, McKay circled his finger near his temple, "driving them insane."

"Really?" All too quickly concern leveled out his joy. _No wonder Teyla felt unwell. _The ride into town in the back of the wagon drawn by huge furry beasts hadn't sat well with her. By the time Arax had pulled into the market square, she looked sick, her face drawn and pale. Accepting no protest, John had ordered Ronon to take her back to 'their home-planet'. One of the Eirulans was kind enough to take the wagon and return one half of his team to the gate. Sheppard had chalked Teyla's sudden illness up to the bouts of nausea, which she seemed to suffer from frequently these days and had ordered her to let Keller check her out, but now he worriedly eyed McKay.

As thickheaded as Rodney could be, he also had a knack of picking up on John's feelings. "I'm fairly sure these things only work in close proximity," he spoke cryptically, conveying enough for Sheppard to know that Teyla would be fine once back on Atlantis and safely out of the bracelet's range.

Their guide smiled. "You are right, Doctor. The effects of the Azunite diminish over a greater distance"

"Azunite?"

"The 'ore' that your friend spoke about, Colonel. The steps to mine and process the blue glowing rocks are long and … difficult. Sometimes people get sick… and lives are lost."

Rodney's eyes widened and he lifted the scanner again, relaxing when it didn't beep in frantic warning. "No worries, Colonel. Not radioactive."

Arax calmly watched the proceedings, speaking only after Sheppard breathed a sigh of relief. "Raw Azunite can be… unpredictable but is perfectly safe once processed."

"You wouldn't be willing to part with some of this… processed Azunite ore, would you?" John tried carefully, knowing how much his friend would love to get his hands on some of this stuff. On top of that he recognized an opportunity when he saw one. With devices like these, Atlantis would gain a severe tactical advantage on the Wraith.

Arax nodded, thoughtfully. "Perhaps, in time… Yes, we could trade. We are always in need of fresh food supplies." A smile brightened his features. "But for now, if you are this interested, I could show you the records we keep concerning our mining process?"

John looked at Rodney. If the man glowed anymore, he'd be able to light this entire backwater hamlet. A nagging feeling of doubt nibbled at his consciousness. His quick observation of this culture –he watched someone pick up what looked like a kettle- didn't reveal the level of technology needed by the Eirulans to do any 'ore-processing.' These people seemed happy to live the life of trade and it was only Arax who showed any sign of grasping higher sciences. However, besides not wanting to risk Rodney's sour mood if he refused Arax's offer, harsh experience had taught him that these people could very well hide their level of knowledge from the Wraith. The military potential these bracelets could offer were enough to warrant further investigation

Reluctantly, he nodded his approval.

* * *

The 'Hall of records' was silent except for the echo of their footsteps. John looked up, eyeing the stack of books towering over him. Whole racks of them went on to his left and right. As much as he liked the silence, all this dusty history made him uncomfortable. After all, a long-thought-of-dead-Ancient emerging from these old records to bite them in the ass wasn't out of the realm of possibilities in this galaxy. Rodney gaped at the size of the massive room.

"The ore is the reason this planet doesn't seem to suffer as much from Wraith cullings as it should have been, Colonel," McKay had hissed while Arax had led them to a stone structure just out of town. It clung to a particularly mountainous cliff face, as if someone had sliced a piece off this particular rocky hill and slammed a building against it. "And these records may provide us with the information we need."

Apparently only high standard members of the Eirulan society had access to this place and the rules were strict. John had agreed to leave their tack vests, backpacks and weapons in the anteroom with Arax before being allowed to enter, but only because Rodney had been so damn excited. They'd been allowed the radios though. Steps leading from the antechamber went up to where the actual hall stretched out before them. Clearly, the hall was a lot larger than the building they'd entered could have provided.

Quietly walking forwards, Sheppard studied the walls. They looked layered, the sharp edges protruding from the stone every few feet or so seemed too artificial to be caused by a natural phenomenon. He whistled softly in admiration. They carved the damn room straight out of the rock!"

Rodney followed his gaze, watching the ceiling in awe. "I'm not a geologist but this looks like some kind of limestone, which makes sense, considering how close we are to the actual river."

"Oh yeah, lots of sense."

McKay gave him the 'are-you-that-stupid' look. "Limestone usually starts out as sediment from a river, sea or ocean. Over time it hardens to become the yellowish rock you see now, its soft but sturdy qualities makes it the perfect building material. I had a professor once who sculptured a whole range of freaky puppets out of this stuff." His gaze drifted to the ceiling again. "I wonder how long it took the Eirulans to build this place."

"Years, if not decades," John mused. "If what you're saying is true, then the river must have disappeared a long time ago."

"Hm, well over ten thousand years."

John raised an eyebrow. "That long?"

"Yeah, well, as fascinating as the rock and mud history is; I'm much more interested in these bracelets." Rodney's voice tapered off as he started walking down the isles, his eyes glued to the labels on the racks that categorized each section of the hall.

With nothing else to do John clicked his radio. "Teyla, Ronon. Are you there?"

"_We're here, Sheppard," _The Satedan's gruff voice sounded through bouts of static.

"The bad reception can't be helped, Colonel," Rodney offered from somewhere ahead. "It's because we're probably all underground. Try heading for the entrance."

Taking McKay's advice, John strolled back to the doorway, stopping just before entering the ante room. "Ronon?"

"_Yeah, I hear you," _his voice sounded clearer this time. _"I'm about to dial the gate and head back to Atlantis. Teyla's not doing too well."_

John winced with worry. "Listen, some of these Eirulans wear a wrist band that emits a signal that attacks a Wraith's mind. Rodney's doing some research on the things right now. It's possible that Teyla's having a bad reaction to these bracelets because of the whole Wraith DNA thing she's got going on. According to McKay she should be okay once she's through the gate."

"_Sounds to me I should get going then."_ The reluctant assent came. _"What about you?"_

"As much as I would love to head back now, I'm stuck in this… library until Rodney's finished his research." Hearing the tell tale sounds of a gate going active, John waited until Ronon finished dialing.

"_These wrist bands," _the Satedan released a short huff, indicating he was probably lifting Teyla to carry her through the gate._ "We could use 'em." _

"Yeah, I know. Listen, Arax promised us a ride home as soon as we're done here, which should be within three hours. If you don't hear from us in four, come and get us."

"_Count on it," _Ronon stated and the radio turned to static again.

Hands laden with several books, scripts and notes, McKay made his way to a large table situated near the front of the room. "Two hours, Rodney!" John hissed as the scientist sat down. "No more."

* * *

Eirulan.

Or P1X 065 as Rodney called it when he stumbled on the address in the Ancient data base. Staring out of one of the few windows in the room, John thought the name far too grand for a place reminding him depressingly of his desert missions in the Middle East. Rocks, sand and more rocks. The windowsill he leaned into -nothing more than a slid in the wall- provided a good defensive position, though, should they need it.

Behind John, McKay sat hunched over the table, trying to decipher books, papers and scrolls laid out in front of him. "Huh."

"What?" He didn't bother to turn around.

"There's hardly a Wraith or Ancient present in these stories, which raises a potential trouble maker of a question."

"Why the hell are these people still stuck in the middle ages?" John studied the bantha drawn carts on the dirt road below the window. He frowned, noticing something in the way these people huddled together.

"Exactly, if these bracelets do what we were told they do, with no threat to their lives, the Eirulans should have at least invented the steam engine by now. Also, these texts are in Ancient, indicating that they must have visited the Eirulans at some point in their past, but I can't find any evidence of it."

John turned to watch him worriedly. "Yeah, I know, and I don't like it. Come take a look at this." He nodded at the window.

Obviously curious, Rodney left his stack of books to join him. The window looked out over the main road leading into the small town. Several people traveled the trail. Mostly in groups of three or four pulling laden carts to and from the trading post. Some of them owned those huge shaggy beasts doing the work load for them. "Huh, it's those Banthas again…"

John grimaced. "We can't go 'round naming every alien species after a Star Wars character, McKay."

"Oh come on, you're the one who started it with that snail-like native back on P8X 921 who you called … what was it again?" He snapped his fingers, thinking hard. "Jabba the Hu-

"Rodney! It doesn't matter." John interrupted him sharply. "Anyway, that's not what I wanted to show you. Look at the close knit groups and tell me who's wearing a bracelet."

With a sigh of resignation, his friend observed what John supposed were groups of mom, dad, children and or brothers and sisters. Most of them wore beige to orange robes and cloths covering their mouths. With long curly hair and a slender build, the girls of this planet looked pretty enough to please the eye. The men looked hardy, used to traveling long distances. Kids clung to the dresses of their moms, sat on the carts, or were playing alongside the trail, reminding John of the one and only camping trip his family had ever undertaken. Some groups were elaborately dressed in colored robes ranging from blue to red to purple. In each of those more colorful families was always one wearing a bracelet.

"The high and mighty of society," Rodney scoffed. "So Arax wasn't kidding when he said what he uh… said. About how only those off well enough deserve the protection of the bracelet. It looks like the rich all have their very own home grown Wraith defender." He turned toward Sheppard. "Actually, if you want to make comparisons, I could say that you took on the same job."

"I'm NOT your personal Wraith defender!" John hissed under his breath.

"Oh really, Colonel with your -I-go-first and Rodney-you-go-in-the-middle- attitude," he snapped, making a quick walking motion with his fingers. A smile tugged at his lips as John opened his mouth to object. "Not that I mind. It's kinda nice to have… you know." He waved his hand at the people outside. "Uh… family."

John took in a deep breath, thank God Rodney understood him so they wouldn't have to elaborate. "Yeah, I know. Still, check out the wearers. They don't look like soldiers to me." The Eirulans with bracelets seemed subdued, not really mingling with the rest of their group.

A quick glance out the window obviously served McKay to realize what John was getting at. "Well, we can't all be part of a happy family, now can we?" He quipped.

"Rodney, they don't look fit enough to walk half a mile, let alone fight the Wraith!" He raised his hand, staving off McKay's half heartened explanation he knew was coming. "And I don't care how much of a technical advantage these bracelets or_ rings of_ _repulse _as they call them offer, you know as well as I do that the things won't do them squat once the Wraith decide to send in their hive ships."

"So, you're saying, what, that the Eirulans must have a way to repel those ships as well?"

"All I'm saying is try and find out all you can about how these bracelets were created. For all we know there might be more than one type going around." John waved out the window at a sour looking man trailing behind two blue robed Eirulans. "Because I'm damn sure he's not a fighter, McKay."

"Hm," Rodney agreed, suddenly serious. "They're hiding something."

They exchanged glances, then without further words McKay returned to the table.

Sheppard felt certain that Arax was holding back on them. But Atlantis needed this trade, so he sucked up his worries and let Rodney do his job.

* * *

_We should have left, right then and there… _John thought back. Aching all over, he felt his body stiffening with fatigue. He rarely second guessed his orders, but whatever had drained him left him vulnerable.

The cliff face loomed closer, its vertical rocky surface stealing the light as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Long shadows reached out black fingers, chilling the air around him. He shivered, feeling himself swiftly cooling despite warm gusts of wind brushing his skin. _Rodney, I swear, the next time you get excited about something I'll have Ronon carry you off the planet as fast as he can run! No matter how appealing the lure of a potential defensive device might sound._

What the hell had he been thinking, splitting his team in half!?Okay, so the planet seemed safe and Arax seemed hospitable but by now he should know that nice-and-friendly didn't count for anything in this screwed up galaxy_. _

Judging by the speed of those Banthas, McKay could very well be miles away by now. The thought of these people turning Rodney into nothing more than a worker doing their bidding -his free will curbed like a dog on a leash- churned John's stomach. _Not. While. I'm. Alive. _He spat, galvanizing his anger into the sole motion of putting one foot in front of the other. Something inside him buckled in sudden fear, but he refused to give into that illusive feeling. He was a soldier, and he was black ops trained, so he could damn well handle the short walk it took to get to the gate.

The pain had lessened to a worrying degree. In fact, he wasn't sure if he could move wrist or hand at all, so he kept his arm tugged against his chest.

Only a few steps more to go.

* * *

**Tbc**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's notes: **_I'm still in awe at the amount of interest this story is getting. Thank you! (deep bow). My plan is to post at least every other day or so. So here's the rest of the 'how they got there' part and also, here's where it gets a bit complicated. I rewrote this numerous times, bounced it off my poor beta even more times to make sure the explanation worked. I hope it did…_

_Enjoy._

_

* * *

_**  
Chapter 3**

Though John was now pretty sure that the highest risk he and McKay exposed themselves to in this creepy library were the dust bunnies, he kept his guard up and took a permanent position at the windowsill, watching the dirt road where people hustled along like on any other world. A wagon the size of a truck drew his attention.

The two 'Banthas' pulling a massive canvas-topped wagon lumbered closer until the transport passed the Hall of Records beneath John's window. Obviously happy to walk in the rock formation's shadows, the beasts slowed down to a lazy step. The driver sitting on the front seat pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe his grimy face.

Words drifted upward as the man spoke with a gruff voice. "How long do you think these will last, Kethel?"

The guy sitting next to him, slightly taller and judging from his regal purplish robe, a high ranking individual, turned to peer back inside the cart. "A few weeks, the strong ones a month, tops."

"We were lucky enough to find them. I don't understand why we didn't stumble across them before?"

John let his gaze glide from the wagon to the other traveling groups and merchants on the dirt road. Stressed voices told him something was coming. The people were hurried, probably due to the sky darkening overhead. With desert conditions like these it could only mean that they expected nature to unleash its worst bad assed weather soon.

A storm was brewing.

"Rest assured that the people hiding them will be punished accordingly," Kethel said. "Don't they understand …" The cart passed the window and a rising wind carried his voice away.

Sheppard leaned on the windowsill to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation.

"…how vital a scientist… even… a potential one… is to our…?

Swallowing, his mouth as dry as parched paper, he slowly drew back. Collecting himself, John walked over to the table and ripped into Rodney's precarious stack of reading material.

"Hey!" His friend caught the books toppling over.

John frantically sieved through them like a man possessed and shoved a particularly interesting page into Rodney's face. "Can you read this?"

Rodney stared at him as if he'd gone mad, but then lowered his eyes to the book under his nose. "Now why doesn't it surprise me that you picked the most illustrative one?"

"McKay!" He knew Rodney wasn't a linguist, but over time the scientist had learned some Ancient phrases here and there up to the point where he could read the inscriptions on most of the devices that the Ancients had left scattered throughout this galaxy.

Ignoring Sheppard, McKay already leafed through the text that was accompanied by detailed drawings on each page. "Oh no…" His eyes moved from one line to the next. "No, no, no."

"What?" Every inch of him went into full alert.

"These bracelets, the 'rings of repulse' Arax talked about? You were right. It's not the only type of wrist band out there. In addition to the aggressive repulse version, designed to fend off the Wraith, a passive alternative was also created called a 'purging ring.'

John swallowed, dreading where this was heading. "What exactly did they purge?"

McKay looked up, blue eyes wide and laced with fear. He turned the book around to show John the perfect drawing of the groups he'd seen traveling the road. Next to the happily grinning family, a grumpy looking figure stood to the side. "These wearers we figured were the family's very own Wraith defender?" his voice sounded tight. "If I interpret this word correctly, it says here they're scientists. All of them."

John stared at the picture. "To do… what? Make certain the family's kids grow up secure in the fact that scientific knowledge is just a short order away?"

Rodney picked up another book and started reading. "Oh this is bad. This is very, very bad."

John all but cringed. "Let me guess. Having your own scientist has nothing to do with your kid's education?" He opted, still staring at the pictures in the first book.

"John…"

The use of his first name made him look up. He hadn't missed the quiver in his friend's voice.

"The 'purging ring' is an entirely different sort of bracelet. From what it says here, these 'passive' rings purge the mind of anyone who shows any sign of being cleverer than the average humpty dumpy, making sure that, and I quote: 'those with the knowledge of the Azunite only work for the good of the settlement.'

John stiffened, bile working its way up his dry throat. "You're telling me they're slamming these bracelets on all their smart people."

Rodney nodded. "Their whole society is based on their ability to fend of the Wraith. They need scientists to process the ore, so first they purge them with these… these… wrist bands, and then they're sent to a family who will assess them. You know… gauge their capabilities, teach them a thing or two. After that they're sent to their final destination where they'll receive the rest of their training." He hesitated, looking John full in the eye. "I don't want to go into the details here… but if you're unlucky enough to end up in the mines, they don't need you for your physical capabilities. They need you to work in the labs, handling raw, lethal ore. Trust me you uh … you don't live very long."

Sheppard looked at him aghast. "Why the hell would any scientist agree to work there?"

"You're not listening! They don't, that's the whole point of creating the second set of wrist bands. Sheppard… the purging ring ruthlessly coerces you into complying with the Will of the Settlement."

A shiver ran down John's spine as an icy coldness gripped his heart. "So, Arax…"

Rodney shrugged. "He probably was over the moon when he realized my potential."

_Crap!_ John pulled Rodney roughly from his chair. "We're leaving."

For once McKay didn't object, his silence speaking volumes of how dangerous he thought these bracelets were.

Damn it! John had thought Arax had been smiling at Rodney a bit too often. The seemingly friendly gestures of their so called guide had suddenly taken on a whole different meaning. The man probably put them in here to keep them entertained while he could alert local authorities or whatever.

Wasting no time, he pushed Rodney to the door, all the while cursing under his breath for allowing Arax to take their gear. The man had planned this perfectly and John doubted their stuff would still be where they'd left it. Sure enough, when they reached the anteroom, the low table standing on the sandy colored floor looked depressingly empty. God knew he'd made judgment errors in the past, leading his team into quiet villages that turned out to house arrow-shooting maniacs for instance. But this time he'd learned his lesson and squatted to reach for the weight he had strapped to his leg.

Rodney eyed him dubiously. "What are you doing?! Now's not the time to- oh."

John held up the 9 mm.

"It's all we've got," he spoke grimly.

"Oh yeah, like that's going to help against a whole horde of Eirulans lusting after brilliant minds unfortunate enough to visit this place. And let's face it; with me they would hit the jackpot." Uncharacteristically Rodney quieted. He stared at the empty table top and then back out the door. "Promise me… you won't let them put those things on me, ever. God, Sheppard. You have no idea what they do… how destructive they are…"

"I thought you said they do nothing more than coerce you?" John asked warily, passing Rodney and heading for the entrance. He peeked outside and then motioned McKay to come up but stay behind him.

"The purging ring keeps your intelligence intact, yes. It lets you think, but only what it wants you to think about, violently suppressing everything else, including feelings, emotions…" The way too analytic ramblings stuttered to a halt and John easily read the panic between the lines.

They stood beneath the arched doorway. A warm wind whipped Sheppard's face as he looked up at the clouds accumulating overhead. "Rodney, Arax doesn't know we're on to him yet. That gives us a head start. With any luck we'll reach the gate before nightfall."

His friend's eyes widened. "On foot!? Are you crazy? That will take at least three hours! He'll easily catch up! Also, this planet's weather system is pretty extreme, reaching from your mildly summer holiday temperatures to scorching hot winds. And I'm not talking about seasonal weather here. I'm talking about abrupt changes that can happen within the hour." He waved outside. "Oh and look, the weather is about to change."

John took a deep breath, knowing that staying would be worse, could mean he'd eventually lose McKay to Arax and the rest of the morally corrupted natives that Pegasus seemed to be riddled with. Not seeing how they got any choice, he told Rodney as much. "If we stay and go undercover, Arax will find us eventually. He knows these lands and these people better than we do. If we go now, the storm might keep them from following us."

Reluctance flitted across Rodney's features, but he nodded anyway.

John wished they had time to search for a cart or a wagon, but they couldn't chance detouring back to town. Three hours on foot over a dry riverbed wasn't a big deal. Not even for McKay who, John was sure, would complain the entire way. But Rodney was right. The problem was going to be the lack of water, the heat and the impending storm. Sheppard didn't like it. The trek to the gate worried him as he followed his friend out the door.

"McKay." His friend turned at his call. The trail they followed led down onto muddy ground before it wound its way over the dry plain and back to caves. "We're going to make it! Just keep walking." Despite their predicament, Rodney's mutterings made him smile.

"Always the optimist, huh Sheppard…"

* * *

John grimaced, recalling Rodney's faith to get him out of this mess. Exhausted, he moved into the shadows of the towering cliff face overhead. Night was falling fast and the fact that he hadn't heard from Atlantis yet cast a shadow of worry on his already very crappy afternoon.

Taking a break hadn't been on his list of things to do, but now that he'd reached the mouth of the cave system his body rebelled, was done being ignored, and screamed its complaints to all and sundry. Forced to acknowledge the pain paralyzing his entire left side and flaring to a whole new level of awareness, he staggered to a halt and bent over, refusing to sink to the ground. Groaning, he nearly missed the sound of hooves and voices entering his awareness.

The imminent danger cleared his mind and he quickly backed off into a shallow crevice that the cliff provided. He hid as best he could by pressing himself against the jagged wall. Sharp edged stone pinched his back. In what was left of daylight, he spotted two figures emerging from the cave's entrance with two Banthas trailing behind them. Despite their robes, John recognized the closest figure as the leader of the hunt and bit his lip. _What the hell did he do with McKay?_

The wind settled down, leaving an unnerving peace and quiet.

"You are sure he got away?" The familiar voice easily carried over the still plain.

His heart raced with adrenaline but Sheppard sternly ordered himself to stay put. He was in no condition to win a fight against someone sporting something as dangerous and unknown as a laser whip. Anxiously he kept quiet, hoping they hadn't sent Rodney through the gate. Finding him again then, would become a serious problem. Along with the wind, the temperature had dropped to near freezing. John shivered. He struggled to stay alert, doubting he would ever warm up again.

"If you are referring to the man accompanying the scientist and the soldier, Arlon," the whip guy's companion spoke loudly. "He was carrying the woman and slipped through the great traveling ring before we could fully erect the barrier."

A shiver ran down John's spine which had nothing to do with the cold. _A shield? They have a damn shield?"_

"He no doubt alerted his home planet of the situation, but seeing as he's aware of the barrier, he can't return with reinforcements. Even if they were to come to us in ships it would take months. We're on the outer edge of the Wraith's domain and not easily accessible by the few space fairing nations out there."

A thick lump of ice spread its tentacles through John's system. He sagged against the relative safety of the rock wall. These men were right. With a shield in place, Atlantis couldn't risk sending reinforcements and he knew for a fact that the Daedalus was light-years away heading for Earth.

"Good. We will keep the barrier active for as long as we deem necessary," the other man continued. "As you know, only those found worthy to defend the Settlement can deactivate it, so there's no chance of the soldier escaping."

The whip guy, apparently called Arlon, released a short huff. "I hit him pretty hard, if the pain hasn't killed him by now, he'll be dead by morning. We can use his companion though. According to Arax he's quite the clever one."

"Can he be purged?"

"I haven't met anyone yet who could resist," he shrugged, gesturing back at the trading town. "He's well on his way through the mountains by now, so I've done my job. Come on, I know just the place where we can stay for diner." The men climbed their mounts and rode off across the great expanse of the dry riverbed where early twilight swallowed them up.

No help was coming.

John felt dazed, invisible chains holding him rooted to the spot, his body feeling as heavy as when he'd woken up.

Bright stars emerged among the dissipating clouds.

He was on his own. With each passing second, McKay's chances of survival slipped away as fast as the dying light around him. Now that plan A was out of the picture, he needed to track Rodney down and fast. He would have gone after him sooner but had figured that with his wounds slowing him down, meeting Ronon coming down from the gate was a wiser course of action. With his speed and tracking skills, the former runner would be able to find McKay in a heartbeat. _Okay, so… plan B. Find McKay. Have him disable the shield, and we'll be home for breakfast. _

He took a deep breath, willing the pain to simmer down and lessen the bouts of nausea sending his sense of equilibrium to hell. He braced himself against the black rock and stood up. Dust and sand, trapped in his narrow hideout swirled around his heels as he fought to steady himself. Gritting his teeth, he let go, wavered a little, then found some hidden strength and set out away from the cliff face. As he walked, step by agonizing step back across the plain, he furiously squashed that consistent nag inside him. A little voice telling him his little detour had cost him… too much.

That Rodney was already out of reach.

* * *

**Tbc**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's notes: **__thanks again for all the reviews. You guys are the best. Now that the back info is out of the way, we can move on with the story… I wrote these early chapters last year. They're betaed, but all remaining mistakes are mine. On that note, I just noticed I had the spoiler warning wrong. Ít's spoilers through season 4 not 3. I've changed it and I hope I haven't spoiled things for anyone..._

**

* * *

****Chapter 4**

McKay woke up to a dull headache. Reality crashed into his senses. Hard unyielding boards caught his aching body every time the earth shook. He squinted, breathing in heavy air of musk and animal dung. Craning his head he could make out white canvas pulled tight over a skeleton of splints topping the rickety cart carrying him: a wagon pulled by a couple of those banthas.

He coughed.

God, his throat felt dry.

He didn't remember losing consciousness. All he recalled was a blur of bodies pummeling Sheppard into the ground. There had been… heat. And then… metal … cold… a horrifying cold… stealing into his skin, his veins, his… mind. With a gasp he lifted his hands. He couldn't move them. They were bound tightly in front of him with thick coarse rope. His feet were tight as well.

To his surprise no guards sat with him, just a driver up on the front seat.

_Stupid! Now, if I can just…_

But the moment he put his mind to work, fell into that familiar pattern of finding a solution –cutting through the ropes using a sharp wooden splint and falling out the back of the wagon to escape- flaring pain, sharp and blinding obliterated all his senses. He gasped, then shrieked with agony too overwhelming to do anything other than ride it out and hope to God it would end soon. Coldness encased him. Freezing him from the inside out, so intense it burned the edges of his mind. He lay still, crippled while tears wet his cheeks. That's why there were no guards: as long as he wore this damn bracelet it wouldn't allow him to escape. The device trapped him, trapped his mind, the one thing he'd always counted on to keep him alive. Well, _that _and Sheppard… but he was… he was…

It was so hard to think. No, he wouldn't give in… Not this easily. Gritting his teeth, he fought against the restrictions, against blackness chewing at every thought, every spark of hope, fraying images and ideas until they fell apart like ripped paper.

He battled the device to hold his thoughts together, formed a hard, concentrated front against the attack. His breathing quickened, turned erratic. He heard it, like it was someone else's. His heart beat a staccato rhythm in his throat until finally the headache subsided, his skin warmed and his head cleared.

The cart lurched every time the banthas took a step. Rodney inhaled a trembling breath. He looked forlornly out the back of the wagon where freedom lured. Sturdy shrubbery and glittering mountains were all he could see. _Oh… so not good. _It meant that whoever was driving this thing had left the dried riverbed and headed up into the hills beyond the trading village. He felt the wagon move up and down and could make out the setting of the sun to the right of the opening, which meant they were definitely heading up into the mountains.

Okay, so escape right now was out of the question.

The moment he realized his trail of thought he waited…

warily…

For the headache to start again.

_Hmpf. _Apparently thinking of getting out in the negative was allowed. A burning sensation drew his attention to his wrists, but he didn't dare try to loosen the ropes to ease the friction; and he still felt cold. The frozen feeling hadn't entirely dissipated, probably because on a subconscious level his mind couldn't stop searching for answers. He couldn't help it. But if he kept his thoughts off escaping, the pain was bearable.

A rough shout -that of a man- shattered the air and the wagon stopped shaking when the banthas pulled to a halt. Rodney braced himself, heard footsteps going around and then heading for the back of the wagon. _Perhaps this is where they dump their victims, or maybe they decided to have a little fun with their catch of the day. _Funny how the bracelet didn't seem to stem the never ending stream of doom scenarios his mind cooked up. A shadow appeared in the opening, blocking what little daylight was left. The figure stepped inside, assailing Rodney with the heavy scent of earth and unwashed clothing. He desperately shuffled back on the hard boards as far as the ropes allowed him.

Cloaked in bland garments, with face and head wrapped in the same fabric, only his captor's eyes were visible. Dark and greedy they looked upon him like Rodney was the prize of his collection. Reaching out, the man caught the ropes and yanked him upright, then shoved a cup with what seemed clear water in it under his nose.

"Drink," the man ordered, pressing the cup to his lips.

Panicked and thirsty, Rodney took a sip. The water slid down his throat, smoothing painful edges and reinvigorating his mind. He drank it all until drowsiness hit him like a truck. "What… What did you…?"

"Now, you sleep."

He was vaguely aware that the guy dropped him unceremoniously to the floor.

* * *

The God awful daze had spread through his body. His feet felt like lead, his head like a time bomb waiting to go off. The headache was damn annoying, reinforcing a chill making a cozy household in his weary bones. On top of that John couldn't see a thing except for the dirt packed ground inches in front of him. He yearned for the lights of Atlantis, no matter that their brightness would probably cause his headache to explode. The city never slept, but this place, this planet felt like it was caught in a permanent coma. He took another step in the smothering blackness of early evening, praying he went into the right direction and not run head long into whip guy's clutches. McKay would scorn him right about now for getting them lost, for how you never appreciated a good street light until darkness hampered your every movement.

He blinked, unsure if he had seen a light flickering ahead.

There it was again… a yellowish flash lifting the heavy blanket of darkness and giving him room to breathe. He homed in on the dancing spark and smelled cinders in the air. _Better be careful…_

He detected wafts of cooked diner, and his stomach buckled with the pungent aroma of herbs and spices. John gagged, bent over and wavered from the sudden knife stabbing pain in his head. He took short bated breaths, vowing to stay standing whatever it took.

_A camp site, _he thought, finding enough strength to see ahead. For the first time today, he felt lucky. As far as he knew, he hadn't left the open plains and whoever had stopped for the night easily would have spotted him during the day.

He crept closer, careful to stay under cover of darkness. The fire crackled loudly, flaring John's headache. Squinting against the overwhelming brightness, he moved out of range of the light to hide behind a boulder lining the campsite. He closed his eyes and rubbed his neck, fighting the tenaciously draining exhaustion.

"Arlon…" A female spoke.

John pinched the bridge of his nose with numb fingers to keep from losing consciousness, noting they were wet with sweat as he pulled them away.

"You did your job well, Finalla."

The familiar male voice shattered John's drowsiness and he carefully peeked around the edge of the boulder to watch Arlon wipe his mouth. _Damn it! _He bit his lip. _This campsite must be where he had diner. _

The female figure watched Arlon with a sad expression. "Just… take care of her. She will work well if you feed her regularly."

Sheppard chanced a look at the rest of the group. The slim figure of a girl stood between Arlon and the companion that John had seen with him earlier. Their banthas stood behind them, lazily waiting just inside the lid circle. Another man stood close to Finalla.

"You are not getting sentimental now, are you?" Arlon walked up to the woman who stood near to the fire. "If I were you, I would cradle the assessment privileges bestowed on you." He pulled up right to her face. "Especially knowing how easily they can be revoked."

"I…"

"Leave it, Finalla." The male standing by her side stepped between them.

"Vex, I can't…"

"No! You know this is the only way to keep our homes safe," Vex said stern but kindly. He turned to Arlon. "It is an honor to serve the Settlement, of course."

"Yes," Arlon watched them thoughtfully, before backing off with a sickly smile on his face. "Please, keep that in mind," he said as he mounted his ride. The girl looked over her shoulder once and then trailed forlornly after Arlon. Something gleamed around her wrist and John didn't need guess what it was. He swallowed with revulsion and turned back to Finalla and Vex as the small 'hunting' party disappeared into the night.

John's heartbeat raced in his chest. _They just let him take her! What kind of people- _A whooshing noise dampened his thoughts, and a voice from the past surfaced unbidden.

_Me… I want him to feed on me._

Why the hell did he remember this now! He didn't want to. He couldn't- The image brightened at the answer he'd given McKay, the sensation of loss flooding his system.

_I can't. I'm sorry._

His headache flared, whitening out the world around him and he knew he was screwed if he didn't move now. Throwing caution to the wind, he stumbled forward. The last thing he heard was Finalla's scream as he toppled over into the light.

* * *

When Rodney came to again, he was indoors in a small room with the telltale yellow limestone walls. He had no idea where he was or how long they had traveled. Light came from a small sconce set up high above the ground near the sturdy looking wooden door. With his hands tight and bound to a ring in the middle of the room, there was no way he could reach for the fire. Also, there was this instinctive knowledge that if he would try…

Quickly focusing on something other than loosening his ropes, he noticed a square patch in the wall. A window… The darkness reaching inside told him it was night. Cold seeped through the stone tiled floor, blew in from the window and drafted from beneath the door right through his body.

He shivered uncontrollably.

Plus he was really, really thirsty.

He noted a cup with water standing near him on the floor. The ropes allowed him some slack and he reached out before his brains registered what he was doing.

_No, no, no, no, no. Drugged! It's drugged, remember! _He thought, still feeling the effects of the last cup of water he'd been offered: a horrifying numbness, leaving him weak, smothering his will to fight.

He froze and- _oh crap. _At once something prickled the inside of his skull. Needled pain quickly grew into a full blown knife attack giving him a splitting headache. _No. Damn it, no! _This was a test… A battle of wills_… _What kind of sick person had thought this up?_ Okay, so… NOT going to drink the wa-"_

Instantly pain flared, burned through every nerve in his body, like he'd caught fire. He whimpered and curled in on himself, eyes watering as he couldn't help but react to the hot flashes beneath his skin. The pain lasted a few seconds, an endless moment, but was enough to make him see sense. When his head finally cleared he realized he didn't have much of a choice.

He picked up the cup with trembling fingers. Hadn't Sheppard told him that no matter what, you had to keep drinking? Half the water sloshed over the edge before he managed to get it into his mouth. Some more sips and he felt weariness settle in, bringing relief from the bracelet's oppressive influence. A small voice inside him screamed he shouldn't let go so easily only to recoil at the drowsiness taking over his senses.

He relented, just for a little while, surrendering his will to let sleep take him.

* * *

John blinked at the dancing light and gradually discerned the fire burning closely to where he lay on what felt like sand. Something soft covered him – a blanket – he frowned, unable to figure out where he was or how he got here.

"I didn't know a man's skin could look so pale."

A face wavered into view, shaping into the woman.

"Finalla, Leave the man alone," a gruff male voice warned.

"But look at him! Even with color returning to his cheeks he is less tanned than our newly born."

Frantically trying to jumpstart his memory, it took John a moment to deduce she was the woman from the camp site. Unlike most of the other Eirulans he had seen she didn't have her face covered. Black curly locks marked her not altogether unattractive features. Brown eyes peered at him intently.

"Eyes matching the different skin tone, you're kind of cute." She smiled. "Hello, I'm-"

"Finalla," John croaked and was startled at how weak he sounded. He cleared his throat, strengthening his voice. "Yes, I heard."

"Clever too," Finalla quipped. She sat on the ground next to him and motioned behind her. "This is Vex."

John carefully managed a nod, noting Vex's protective stance. He recognized him as the man who'd stepped between Arlon and Finalla earlier. Dressed in the same sort of robe worn by Finalla, his skin was also tanned; his hair just as black as his eyes.

Finalla's dark eyes grew curious. "What is your name?"

"John Sheppard… John." he gripped his arm, feeling tight bandages wrapping him from wrist to shoulder. "I guess I should say thank you."

She smiled.

"Listen, I'm sorry to crash your party like that, but-" _The whip… the pain…_ Memory returned full force: the wind blasting in his face… feeling hot, cold… the urge to keep walking… some freaky guy dragging Rodney… His heart hammered a thousand miles in his chest and he sat up abruptly, stilling immediately when his eyesight exploded into stars.

"Whoops," Finalla reached forward to steady him. "Careful. The Valerian root works quickly, but you shouldn't move just yet."

"I'm all right, I just-" he touched what felt like soft soil and looked up. In the dawning light of the rising sun, John noticed he was surrounded by more shrubs and trees than he'd ever seen together on this planet. The reason for that babbled some ten feet away: a brook, meandering its way through thick bushes. Leafless trees loomed overhead, dipping forward with spiked branches as if trying to reach for the sparkling water. He clenched his fist, sand slipping through his fingers.

The red rock of the hard stony plateau was nowhere to be seen.

"Where the hell am I?" He hoped to God he wasn't miles away from the gate. The possibility of McKay's trail being cold and long gone by the time he got back on track left him more shaken than he cared to admit. _Damn it, John!_ Since when had it become so hard to keep his emotions in check?

"Near Kalrathia forest," Vex said warily, a flicker of unease crossing his sharp features. "We had to travel all through the night to get you the medicine you needed."

_Kal- what? _He stared at them. "Where's the gate?"

"The gate?" Finalla asked, confused.

"The… Stargate," he repeated impatiently. How had Arlon called it again? "The um… the Great Traveling Ring."

Vex stepped closer. "We figured you are not from this world, John. However, you cannot go home. The… gate… as you call it is forbidden to all but those defending us from the Wraith. The barrier alone makes sure-"

"Look, it's not that I don't appreciate your help." He moved to stand up. Finalla gasped and caught him before his legs could buckle. _Crap, _he felt tired_._ "Your guest last night got hold of a friend of mine. So I… he-" There his voice went again… conveying his emotions to a bunch of perfect strangers who for all he knew had a hand in Rodney's capture. Feeling self conscious he shrugged free of her touch.

She pulled back, her voice growing cold. "You know, Arlon?"

"You must have seen what happened last night," Vex thankfully deduced. "He is a scientist? Your friend?"

"Yeah," Sheppard replied guardedly, drawing out the word. _And apparently having a brain is a bad thing around here._

Finalla spoke softly. "I am sorry, but if Arlon took your friend, then he is lost. You cannot-"

"What I can't do," he snapped, rudely interrupting her, "is leave him behind." Finalla's resignation tugged at his anxiety and he had a hard time keeping his anger under control. "Just…" he took a deep breath in an effort to calm down. "Just… point me in the right direction and I'm out of your hair."

She was silent for a moment, studying him as if searching for a way to tell him the bad news. "Arlon probably handed your friend over to one his contacts," she spoke quietly. "By now they've taken him to a purging station in the mountains." Taking heart when John didn't answer, she continued. "He will be fully submitted by the time the sun has risen."

Hating how her statement ground his soul into little pieces, John dropped his voice to an ice cold pitch. "We're not like you. He didn't come as quietly as Moira, Finalla." He hadn't meant his words to sound as an accusation but it was too late.

Finalla's face reddened.

Damn it, he was usually more subtle than this.

"You have no right to judge our system," Vex spoke warningly stepping up to him. "It has kept us safe from the Wraith for thousands of years. How many other civilizations can say the same?"

Grudgingly he had to admit the man a point. "Not many."

Finalla's expression softened. "Moira was a purged girl sent to us two years ago. I was assigned by the council to assess her capabilities. It was only a matter of time before Arlon took her away again. She knew her duty."

"And you are fine with that?"

"I..."

"That's enough, John!" Vex spoke harshly.

Not wanting to knock the guy's lights out, Sheppard walked off. "Listen, I don't care how … practical… your system is," he spoke, turning without stopping, while halfway over to the meandering brook. "All I know is it took one of my people!"

"John, please," Finalla said. "The Settlement will not allow you to interfere. You will be sent to the mines!"

Ignoring her plea, he continued on his way and squatted near the water. Though seemingly gentle, the stream's current was strong and he felt his anxiety ease a little when he emerged his hands into the icy liquid. Cupping his palms, he splashed the cooling liquid on his face and sat still for a moment, his hand covering his mouth as water dripped down his bangs to slide down his cheeks. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned his head. "Do you have any idea where Arlon might have taken him?"

"You're really going after your friend?" Finalla looked confused. "He is that important to you?"

How could he answer her question without delving into the whole friendship thing he and Rodney got going? He didn't feel comfortable talking about that at the best of times, let alone right now to a bunch of strangers when his emotional control felt all out of whack and he had a headache the size of ten elephants. He surveyed the surroundings. The sun casts its early morning rays across miles of what looked like deserted lands, doing little to warm him up.

_He will be fully submitted by the time the sun has risen…_.

Instead of answering, he stood up and stalked past Finalla to head back to the dying fire where he stepped up to Vex. He knew these people had been nothing but kind. However, since he already felt so damn rattled, drained, which, if he paused to think about it, was cause for worry, their disheartening statements were getting to him. "You can either help me," he spoke in a low voice. "Or you can point me in the general direction of the gate."

"Why should we help you?"

"Vex," Finalla pitched in, taking John by surprise. "He will not make it on his own."

"He's opposing the will of the Settlement, Finalla! It is punishable by law! You cannot expect us to care about-"

"But I do!" she emphasized. "I cared… about Moira… about all I have ever assessed. Please, just this once. Can't we help? There's no harm in pointing him into the right direction, is there?"

For a while Sheppard thought Vex wasn't going to answer. The man's eyes locked unto Finalla and then he sighed. "There's only one place where Arlon contacts will take a freshly purged scientist."

"Which is?" John asked warily.

Finalla gave Vex a quick kiss before turning to Sheppard. "The City of Kalrathia."

* * *

Rodney screamed, cried out, and stared into nothingness with hate-filled eyes, only succeeding in catching his captor's amused gaze. He felt so much anger.

They couldn't keep this up… couldn't keep him from thinking of Atlantis… of Ronon, Teyla, and Sheppard.

They would come for hi-

PAIN

He needed to live long enough to-

PAIN

Wait for rescue to-

PAIN

Maybe he could-

PAIN

But they did… chain his will, his freedom of thought and speech.

Sorrow… Carson… Elizabeth… he felt-

PAIN

He gasped, his emotions twisting violently, frantically trying to find a way out. Anger turned into overwhelming rage. Hate morphed into images they wanted him to forget.

Oh God, he still cared… too much.

Tears leaked from his eyes as his will got crushed beneath the onslaught of the bracelet's coercing stimuli. Gradually fury turned into despair as more often than not he lay gasping for breath, for room to think, for a miracle that would break the concrete boundaries placed on his mind.

Until his hands and feet were freed…

And he didn't move.

They had trapped his mind as tightly as if he were still bound. He looked up, tired, quiet, broken.

"I think he's ready," the man spoke.

* * *

**Tbc**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's notes: **_thank you all for reading! And I would love to hear what you think of course! All I can say is, the plot thickens… more angst, more whump and John keeping it together… for now._

_

* * *

_**Chapter 5**

"We're nearly at the great forest, John," Vex called over his shoulder. "After that it's just another half days walk along its edge to the city of Kalrathia."

From the back of their small group John eyed his traveling companions with mixed feelings. Vex, carrying what little possession he and Finalla owned in a leathery backpack, had picked up his pace, talking too softly to Finalla for Sheppard to hear. To John's left, the brook had widened; its banks more and more overgrown with thick bushes. The path, if you could call it that, was no more than a wildlife track two feet wide.

For once he was glad McKay wasn't here to complain loudly about the vegetation's defenses. With every step, thorny sharp branches scraped his exposed skin, numerous scratch markings were burning his face and hands. He could have used Ronon, though, or more specifically the Satedan's sword to widen the path and make life more comfortable. But since he had no weapons to speak of, it was all he could do to swipe the overhanging branches away. More often than not however, the thorn riddled shrubbery retaliated by whipping back viciously, driving their pointy weapons into his flesh. "You're sure that's where they took McKay?"

Vex dropped back a little so he wouldn't have to shout over the sound of the rushing water. "Of course we are. That is where they take all the scientists, especially the newly purged ones."

Not liking the sound of that, John grimaced. "Before they get shipped to the mines, right?"

"Sort of," Vex answered. "They are auctioned off to the highest bidder."

John stopped dead in his tracks. "What?" He felt like a sandbag just dropped in his stomach.

It took a moment for Vex to realize that John wasn't following him. He turned. "It's one of the few public events Eirulan has to offer. Everybody who is anybody is going to be-"

"I don't care a rat's ass about who is going to be there!" John interrupted, barely able to contain his anger. "You're telling me that they're going to sell him like a piece of furniture?!"

Finalla came trotting back from the front. "We don't like it anymore than you do. Believe me."

Swallowing down the sudden need to knock some sense into these people's heads, John eyed them both intensely. "Why are you doing this?"

"We told you," Finalla replied. "It's the way of the Settlement. We may not like it, but the political structure is there for a reason. We cannot change what-"

"That's not what I meant. Why are you helping me?" He waved both hands at himself.

Finalla fell silent, obviously unwilling to answer.

"Perhaps," Vex started as Finalla turned and started walking again, "she has seen too many families ripped apart, too many friends taken away." He swallowed. "She really cared for Moira."

"I'm sorry, I-"

Vex raised his hand to stop him from speaking. "It made us aware of the havoc the system can wreak on a personal level. We're just a bit more compassionate to those… effected. That is all. So, we help when we can." He trailed after Finalla, forcing John to follow.

"I'm not leaving without him, Vex."

Vex looked at him, sadly. "The sooner you learn that there is nothing you can do, the better. We agreed to take you to Kalrathia only because we think that you need to see for yourself that your friend is already gone, John. Please let us help you accept that."

Sheppard looked sideways, biting his lip. "No."

"John."

He turned sharply to Vex. "I said no!" He emphasized and walked off, passing Finalla to do what he did best, taking the lead.

* * *

The wagon shook and rattled as the banthas pulled it toward its next destination, apparently a place where he would be sold to the highest bidder. Rodney sat in the back, knees drawn up to his chin, not feeling any incentive to move, feel angry, or cry out. He wasn't much aware of his surroundings, was simply focused on the act of not letting treacherous thoughts germinate emotions that would cause the bracelet to act up.

Back at the purging station he had retreated within his mind, only to be found and pushed into oblivion ten times over again. He still whimpered at the memory of his soul being frozen until it had shattered on the wrist band's icy boundaries. Panic had soured all out of proportion, shoved him into the only direction that had provided some relief.

All he had to do was to serve the Settlement. No big deal right? How hard could it be? He remembered crying, something snapping when he relented. They had promised the headache would go away, but it never quite dissipated. His memories were still his. But the funny thing was that they didn't evoke any response anymore. He felt empty, drained… With little energy left there was no room to fight, only to do as he was told.

Lifting his head, Rodney struggled to keep his last vestiges of self.

* * *

The track had widened into a dirt path skirting the edge of the forest. Finalla had always liked the huge trees, their scented needles and the cover they provided. Unlike on the Great Plains, the weather didn't change much beneath the shadowy canopy. She sighed with relief, letting cool air brush her skin as she followed the road, making sure to stick to the tree line.

Sheppard walked at a manageable pace up front. _He's used to traveling. _She deduced, watching how the man kept an eye on both them and their surroundings. _And to take care of those that travel with him. _It was obvious in the way he never strayed more than a few feet ahead of them. Finalla pursed her lips before determinedly stepping up beside him. "Are you always this … obstinate?"

Green eyes pinned her to the spot for a second, then he seemed to deflate. "Actually, I'm usually pretty easy going. Look…" He turned toward her. "I'm sorry if I've been such a pain in the ass. I really do appreciate the help."

Finalla lifted an eyebrow at his strange use of words and smiled when she got the gist. "It's okay. I guess we just never invest as much in our friends as you seem to do."

"Because they can be taken away at any time?" he figured, correctly.

She motioned back at Vex. "He's a good companion. We travel together, help each other stay warm during the night, but if he or I were to be taken, we would not feel the hurt so much because in here," she pointed at her head, "we have kept our distance."

John raised his eyebrows. "I get it. I really do. But back where I come from… " He stopped, his thoughts turning inward for a moment and Finalla wondered where exactly he was from. What world could offer so much protection that relationships deeper than she had ever allowed herself to experience were possible?

"Let's just say I was appointed to protect the people under my command and that includes McKay."

She frowned. "Despite what you may think of us, we are not socially inept, John. I can see that you act out of more than obligation alone. Your unwillingness to let go only serves to hurt you more in the end."

"It's… worth it… I guess." There it was again, the panic in his eyes telling her how much he needed this other man to be safe. He'd willingly formed a bond of friendship that had nothing to do with the love between a man and a woman.

He had forged dependence by choice.

It was different from the love she felt for Vex.

She glanced back at her partner. Losses like Moira had made her wary of keeping any relationships longer than a few months and love was a fleeting thing, only allowed in the darkness of the night. There was no friendship. Not really.

What John talked about was dangerous. Permanent, strong, intense, this could destroy you if you were not careful. For a second she saw a glimpse of the possibilities out there, of other ways, other cultures.

Unfortunately, Sheppard would find out soon enough that here on Eirulan caring that deeply would only get you killed.

* * *

Lying snugly against the rim of a huge forest, this city was easily ten times larger than the trading town near the gate. Rodney eyed the stage and lowered his head, afraid to think of anything other than hoping he would get to service a family who wouldn't treat him too badly.

_We don't leave people behind..._

Something stirred, deep down, buried beneath faces and memories he couldn't afford to remember. Surprised, he rooted out this illusive emotion and fled toward it like a moth to a flame. Panic dissipated at the resolve he found: strength stemming from fear deeply buried beneath the rest of his fright. The only difference with this angst was its origin.

Loyalty.

He closed his eyes, not at all surprised that thinking about his former life didn't kindle a response from the bracelet… Because it knew there was only one thing he could do to keep Sheppard safe.

* * *

Having a robe thrown over his black slacks and shirt, so as not to get recognized, John watched from a safe position not too far from the stage as the slaver shoved his friend forward. A slam with a cattle prod forced Rodney on his knees.

"A scientist, ladies and gentlemen, one of the best this world- No, this_ galaxy_ has to offer."

McKay sat on the hard wooden stage, jacket torn, looking at the spectators through bleary eyes.

Sheppard wanted to scream, to yell, and to make all of them leave him alone. But his voice would never be heard, would get lost in the searing crowd.

The slaver stripped Rodney from his jacket to hold it aloft for all to see. "An off-worlder, ladies and gentlemen, one who has so much knowledge, the Settlement is willing to grant you full immunity in exchange for his keep until he's ready for the mining labs. This specimen won't go for any less then ten thousand guildars."

By the 'oh's' and 'ah's' from the crowd, John could tell it was a lot of money. He tried to draw Rodney's attention, but the scientist didn't look up. It pained Sheppard to see him so still, so quiet. "If they know how good he is, why not send him to the mines now?" he whispered at Vex, standing to his left.

"He needs to be assessed first. They may have purged him, know he's smart, but they don't exactly know how to deal with him yet. As long as he has not been tested, the mining cooperation will not allow him entrance."

"Let him work to death you mean," John spoke bitterly.

Vex nodded. "Assessment duty is a highly sought after profession. Mostly because it grants you immunity from being tested yourself. Finalla was one of the few lucky enough to be assigned by the council. The only other way to get the job is to buy your way in."

"Twelve thousand!" A voice cried from the crowds.

Sheppard clenched his hands until they hurt, appalled at the value these people dared to place on his friend's life. "Can't we buy him?" He asked quickly, each higher bid making him grit his teeth until he stood shaking with anger.

Finalla shook her head. "I keep forgetting you are not from here." She nodded at the latest bidder: a man dressed in an elaborate blue, golden-rimmed robe. A small part near the stage was cordoned off and seats were placed inside. The man sat in the front row, raising his hand while studying Rodney intensely, obviously calculating how much a bid the scientist was worth. "That is Velnar. He is a member of the Settlement's council and one of the wealthiest men on the planet. Only royalty can collect the money needed to buy this purchase, John, and the people know it."

The way Velnar nodded at McKay with approval made Sheppard want to puke. It made him think of the large exclusive horse fairs he'd accompanied his father to whenever one of the man's precious horses was auctioned off, or when, as his father had stated often enough, they needed some new blood.

In order to gain a counter bid, the slaver gripped Rodney by his chin and ruthlessly jerked his head upward, showing him off to the crowd. Blue eyes suddenly locked on to John, desperation in them so clear it made Sheppard take a step forward. _Damn, how long has he known I'm here?_

He felt a hand steadying him.

"They will kill you if you interfere," Vex hissed softly. "Now's not the time."

"Fifty thousand!" A man spoke suddenly.

Rodney looked startled as at the same time the crowd fell silent.

"Oh no," Finalla breathed beside him.

"What?" John recognized the bidder entering the cordoned off VIP area from back when he'd stared out the window of the Hall of Records. That seemed ages ago. This man in his purple robe had sat alongside a driver on a wagon full of their latest captives, trying to judge how long each of the scientists would last. What was his name again?

"It's Kethel," Vex whispered.

Sheppard's attention flicked back to Rodney who lowered his head, eyes downcast.

"Kethel's vote is final," Finalla elaborated. Everyone will back off now. Such is the unspoken rule. He owns the mining cooperation, but every once in a while he buys a scientist for himself. No one knows what he does with them, but it is generally assumed they… don't last long."

Not missing her hesitation John glared at Finalla. A gong rang loudly over the assembled people. The crowd cheered and Kethel nodded at one of his entourage. His assistant rushed forward to clamp shackles around McKay's hands. Kethel waited off to the side, his sour expression betraying impatience as guards yanked Rodney to his feet and shoved him down the stage, pushing him towards his new owner.

John's mouth ran dry.

With a snarl that vaguely sounded as a 'no', he bolted forward, evading Vex's grip. Sheppard ducked between robes, linen and excited people, making a beeline for Kethel's wagon near a side street. When he was near enough to the parting crowd letting the guards with McKay through, he frantically tried to think of a way to reach his friend without drawing attention. It would do neither of them any good if he got himself killed.

He was about to shout out, making sure to keep below the crowd's sound-level and hoping McKay would hear him, when Rodney looked over his shoulder, searched the people and seemingly effortlessly picked him out.

Sheppard halted in his tracks, watching pain flutter across his friend's features. Rodney shook his head ever so slightly, and John read him loud and clear. There was worry, yes, but what got to him was the 'Please stop, you're only making it worse' bit. The guard pushed McKay forward, causing him to stumble; nearly falling over. The other guard ruthlessly held him upward by the chain and dragged him over towards the wagon.

John stood, heaving with exertion, feeling as if a curve ball had hit him in the gut. _What the hell was that!? _He wasn't surprised that Rodney knew where to find him but felt thoroughly taken aback at what he'd seen in the man's eyes. McKay usually only displayed this kind of resignation in the face of a heroic self sacrifice accompanied by a healthy dose of determination. However, this… this was Moira all over again. Acceptance… and it scared the crap out of him.

_He told you to stop, John…_ Anger found no release save for fogging his eyes. _God damn it! He practically told me to quit! _He leaned forward, hands resting on his knees. _What the hell did they do to him? _

He felt anger turning into aching despair accompanied by a memory, surfacing unbidden_. Forced to stop, to sit, to do nothing, he couldn't deal with it and then there was the horrifying loss of control and his fist smashing through Elizabeth's office window. _

A burning pain flared behind his eyes and he grunted, slamming the lid down on the image and all associated feelings. _Crap! This is not good. _He squinted, fighting whatever was wrong with him until he managed to dredge up some sort of control.

"You will not see him again," Finalla spoke softly, standing at his side.

John straightening just in time to watch Kethel's wagon disappear around a corner. "How long does he have?"

"A week, no more," she answered quietly.

On this planet that meant Rodney would last around eight days. "So, Kethel's taking him home, right?"

Finalla's eyes turned large. "Kethel is ruthless! If you are caught… the mines will not be a big enough punishment. He will probably kill you, or worse, use you for one of his many experiments."

John looked down at the steel grip holding his arm and then up at the source. "I had hoped you would see reason now, Sheppard." Vex hissed. "Finalla has done enough for you." He made his point by pushing John into a nearby wall.

Sheppard collided hard with the brickwork and the air rushed from his lungs. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Finalla yelp, but the blinding headache smothered the sound as he lost control over his wayward feelings. He hit Vex's arm hard, twisted and reversed their positions, and then pressed the man against the stone structure in a choke hold.

Vex stared at him, eyes wide. John snapped his hands back, startled. _What the hell just happened? _

Vex rubbed his sore throat. "You know how to defend yourself?"

With effort, John managed to keep his confusion from showing, giving Vex a light scowl._ Damn it. I could have killed him! _"I'm not asking you to tag along," he said instead. "I will do this, with or without your help."

Vex frowned. "What in the name of the Ancestors makes your friend so important that you are willing to risk your life? I have never seen Kethel pay so much money for a scientist."

Finalla eyed John warily. "It is very rare to find a scientist with knowledge greater than our own. I have heard the stories. You are Lantian, are you not?"

Vex's mouth dropped.

Sheppard smirked, and then nodded. It had only been a matter of time before they found out. He only hoped the truth wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass. "Does that mean that you're going to help me?"

* * *

**Tbc**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's notes: **__thank you for all your way too generous reviews. And I mean it. I'm utterly stunned, but I believe I mentioned this already. Doesn't matter. I'm going to keep mentioning it. I put a lot of effort in this story. True. But mainly because I'm non native English and I hate errors pulling readers out of a story. Anyway… you may have noticed Sheppard's suffering from fatigue and has annoying flash backs. Here's the answer as to why and it's not just from the whip wound. More Shep whump coming up…_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 6**

Sunken deep into his jacket and resting against the wooden banister of the moving wagon with his arms folded across his chest, Rodney glared at Kethel from beneath half closed lids.

"Are you sure he's fully purged?" Kethel asked from his position opposite McKay, his voice full of doubt and his mouth full of food.

Rodney tried to ignore him, but it was hard. His stomach growled. He'd been fed a bowl of indistinctive tasteless grub hours ago… ages ago.

It figured. _Why feed your workforce when they're going to die in a matter of days anyway? What a waste of resources. _So he tried to stomach his hunger, despite the fact that his mouth watered at the smell of the meaty stew Kethel shoveled inside. He felt hazy and cold but wasn't certain whether the muffled sound and murky sight were the wrist band's working or the onset of hypoglycemia.

Darkness settled in and a breeze rose. A piece of canvas not securely tied down at the back of the wagon flapped in the wind. He was grateful their transport was covered. A vague notion of how wrong it was to feel elated at all under the current circumstances bubbled to the surface. For a second there was a cramped painful pressure. The bracelet acted fast and he let the thing do its job, focusing on the sheltered warmth surrounding him.

His thoughts drifted back to Kalrathia, to the crowds, to where he'd spotted John. He knew he'd done the right thing. The Eirulans were religious fanatics when it came to their precious Azunite ore and the bracelets. They would have killed Sheppard without a second thought.

He had paid dearly for the flow of relief flooding his body at seeing his commanding officer alive and well. Hope, stubbornness, and all related emotions had frozen over instantly with pain stealing his words away. His resolve had hardened, cracked and broken like growing fissures on a frozen lake until all he could do was shake his head and hope Sheppard understood… that he should… that he should stay away. The wrist-band stopped its torture when he'd mentally pushed his friend away but not before he'd felt the ugly, devastating consequence of feeling something other than the need to serve the Settlement.

He couldn't go through that again.

"I don't know, Arax," Kethel continued, swallowing his last bite and putting his plate down to study Rodney carefully. "He seems… defiant, somehow. What are you staring at, boy?!"

McKay, who had lifted his head at the mention of Arax, quickly looked away. The man in question sat on the front seat and peered through two flaps of canvas. Rodney knew he should feel anger, hatred at Arax for setting him up, but except for a dense wall of fear, there was nothing.

"You know me," Arax glanced at him and then his eyes settled on Kethel who burped loudly, his broad belly and fatty face told McKay that Kethel led a luxury life. "I always deliver what I promise. The bracelets have never failed us thus far." Arax pinned Rodney with an intense gaze. "You should have seen him… barely manageable before the hunt got a hold of him."

Rodney's chest constricted at the mention of his former life, but he didn't dare answer Arax's challenging stare.

"There's no punch to his anger, not anymore. He knows his place, knows where it's safe, don't you, Rodney?"

He nodded an affirmative without really thinking about it. Flashes of his old live sent prickly warning signs up his spine, so he quickly added an "I'm here to serve the Settlement."

Arax harrumphed. "See? You worry too much, Kethel."

Rodney closed his eyes and shivered. Safe… he was safe as long as he stayed where he was. It was something of a relief to let go, actually. For once he wouldn't have to make the difficult decisions, wouldn't be the one responsible for getting those he cared for killed. No chance getting hurt here either. There was no feeling of loss. Carson… Elizabeth… they were all a distant memory in this place where emotions were cushioned and industriousness was awarded. And even though the headache stayed, the pain was bearable as long as he protected this safe haven of self awareness where he was still allowed to think. Rodney shifted into a more comfortable position and fell asleep, dreaming of hairy banthas and Sheppard screaming words at him that got lost in a searing sandstorm.

* * *

"Legend has it that the ancestors fled to another galaxy thousands of years ago, leaving their great cities empty and lost, their knowledge and technology forgotten." Finalla eyed John more closely, her scrutiny making him feel ill at ease.

In preparation for their trek to Kethel's place, John had traded the trampled radios for food and water. Finalla had managed to get hold of an extra blanket and another leathery backpack filled with a range of small camping equipment as well as some more medicinal herbs. Crouching on the ground, Sheppard tightened the blanket on top of the rest of the stuff he was going to carry.

"If you really are Lantian, this would explain your strange ways and … attire."

He wisely kept silence. If the thought of him being a direct descendant of the ancestors made her help him out, then who was he to dissuade her. Besides, it could be true. His possession of the Ancient gene certainly didn't prove otherwise. Still, he didn't give a damn about who believed what, all he cared about was getting Rodney back and if telling a little white lie was what it took then he gladly told a whole range of them.

"Everyone knows they visited Eirulan many turns ago and imbued us with the knowledge of the Azunite Ore. They left suddenly. No one knows why but some say the mines had a strange effect on them."

A cold feeling of foreboding clenched John's stomach. He looked up. "What do you mean, strange?"

Finalla shrugged. "No one can say for certain. It could be that the ore made them as sick as anyone else."

_Or it could be the Ancient gene acting up, even after the ore is processed. It would explain why I felt like crap when I was near McKay just now. Rodney wore one of those… bracelets… after all._ A thought dawned on him. "The whips… do they contain Azunite ore?" He asked pointedly, standing up.

"The fire flashes? Yes. I believe the grip contains a piece of crystallized ore that becomes active once you turn on the weapon." Finalla said, confirming his suspicion. He cursed inwardly at his gene that more often than not caused a whole boat load of troubles. So that's why he was unable to wake up back on the plains. The Azunite had caused the mysterious energy-drain, made him feel worn out and exhausted. And then there were the headaches and his worrisome lack of control over his emotions causing bothersome flashbacks.

No wonder the Ancients had fled this planet without taking any of these 'bracelets' with them. _This ore must have done a real number on them. _A smile tugged at his lips. He was the first to admit that getting all emotional scared the crap out of him. But to these rigid Ancients it must have been terrifying, which explained quite neatly why they had scraped any mention of this planet's most valuable resource from their database.

Worried, because Rodney also carried the gene, albeit artificial, he lifted the backpack.

"The forest of Kalrathia is not all that dangerous, but it is wide spread," Vex put in. "Kethel's place is near where the mines are: another day's walk once we have cleared the woodlands."

John nodded and ordered them to go.

Finalla stared at him as he marched by, and then followed on a trail that would lead them out of Kalrathia and into the darkness of the forest.

* * *

Rodney knew he should care about only getting one meager meal a day, but somehow it didn't matter. Kethel even fed him more than he did the others. What was important was getting the device ready in the next couple of days. Kethel had been very clear on the time constraints and since it was the council who allowed him to work on this project, Rodney vowed not to disappoint them.

In a way Kethel's laboratory breathed a welcoming atmosphere. It had no windows, held no distractions of any kind. The bluish walls provided all the light he needed, which was fine by him because his headache and nausea had intensified and he was sure sharp daylight would overload his senses. He had to navigate the mines though, to get to the main lab where the other scientists worked so he could coordinate their efforts. But he couldn't worry about that right now.

He rubbed his hands. Feeling so elated to be allowed to sink his teeth into an intellectual problem that he was even willing to suffer for it. He could live with his physical discomfort as long as the bracelet wasn't hurting him, so he took a deep breath and started his calculations.

* * *

Avoiding the main dirt roads through the woods -for fear a 'hunting' party would recognize Sheppard- meant it took two days before John noticed the trees were getting sparser and bright beams of sunlight reached the forest floor again.

The scent of cuttings and moisturized wood hung thickly in the air. Freshly leaved greenery sprung up between damp decaying leaves, bobbing their heads to the planet's life-giving star shining through the canopy.

The forest opened up to rolling hills covered with knee-high grass growing as far as the eye could see. John shivered. Strong gusts of winds send a chilling air through the Eirulan cloak he wore over his jacket. The laser whip had done a terrific job of tearing the sturdy fabric of his uniform apart, so he'd ripped off the left sleeve entirely. He gripped his throbbing arm, surveying the lands ahead of him from the edge of the forest. Wind rippled the scenery in random patches, the grass waving in the dimming light of late afternoon, causing the hills themselves to appear alive.

"We should take some rest and wait until nightfall before crossing over to the mountains," Vex pointed out as he stepped up next to John. "Once we reach them, it will be easier to remain unseen during the day. If all goes well we will be at the mines by noon."

He nodded reluctantly. For two days now Rodney was in the hands of Kethel and as far as John was concerned every hour was one too many.

They made camp, taking care to stay just inside the forest.

After diner, consisting of bread and dried cheese, John settled in to take first guard when Finalla approached him.

"I should clean your wound, refresh the bandages."

Sheppard glowered at her. Since they'd left Kalrathia his headache had subsided, supporting his theory that feeling like crap lately did have something to do with his close proximity to the ore in the whips and bracelets. However, the throbbing in his lacerated arm had intensified up to the point where moving his shoulder became a really, really bad idea.

"You will not do anyone any favors by letting the fire run through your flesh."

John had to admit that she had a point. Reluctantly, he sat down and let his head rest against a large trunk, hissing when Finalla carefully removed the bandages to reveal a sore and festering wound underneath.

"Look, I'm still trying to get my head around this whole 'assessment' thing," he spoke to get his mind of the pain. "Don't take this the wrong way, but-"

"Why me?" Finalla finished. "When there are men like Kethel and Velnar willing to pay a fortune for the duty."

"Well, I was wondering," he drawled.

"I'm a historian, John, a scholar." she said as if that explained it all. She sighed at his look of incomprehension. "I have spent many days at the Hall of Records studying the archive. That is how I knew you were Lantian." She sighed. "There are only a few of us left. If the Settlement had not recognized our importance, I would have been purged a long time ago."

"So…" He flinched slightly as Finalla cleaned the gash in his arm. "They're clever enough to not slam a bracelet on all their… resources."

"The council needs scholars to perform an accurate assessment of the scientists, people who have a wide range of general knowledge," she explained. "Thus, we are excluded from wearing a purging ring until our duty is over." She frowned. "Your wound is deep. The Valerian root has not been entirely effective in keeping your flesh clean." She applied more herbs and dressed up his arm. "That should do it."

Her sudden change of subject didn't fool John. "Excluded? For how long?"

Packing up discarded bandages, Finalla kept silent.

"Finalla. How long?"

Her eyes met his. "I have a few days left."

"Days?" astounded, John stared at her. "And there's nothing you can do?"

"It's an honor to serve the Set-"

"That's bull and you know it," he interrupted harshly.

"John, I am taught to accept my faith with dignity. The Settlement heard the rumors. The Wraith have awoken and it is only a matter of time before they set their sights on Eirulan. We need the 'rings of repulse', so we need the scientists to create them."

John spoke lowly, anger rising at her casual acceptance. "And Vex is okay with this?"

Finalla's face turned sad. "Don't do this, John. Please."

He hardly knew her but refused to give up on her life, on any life so easily. "There has to be another way."

"There is." Vex sounded coldly. "Step away from him, Finalla."

A familiar sound raked the air accompanied by a white light slithering from the grip in Vex's hand. John swallowed in an effort to get rid of the sudden bout of nausea. "Um… Do you mind pointing that thing somewhere else?"

"Vex," Finalla started as she backed off. "What-"

Sheppard noticed that Vex was careful not to come too close. "Delivering him to Kethel will grant you full immunity, Finalla."

John eyed the laser light's tip that danced across the forest floor way too close to his feet. The thing chilled him to the core. "You planned this all along?" he asked, repressing the urge to close his eyes at the rising pressure in his head and lungs.

Vex turned to John. "No, not until you told me you are Lantian and I realized your worth. I'm sorry, Sheppard." He looked up at Finalla. "Tie him up."

She stared at Vex in awe as if the truth had just hit her. "You care that much for me?"

Vex's stance relaxed a little, his eyes softening. "Is that so hard to believe?"

Finalla looked from Vex to John and back to Vex again. "But Sheppard… he… It feels wrong."

"I'm sitting right here you know," John interjected, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Vex stepped closer to Finalla, pointing at Sheppard with the whip. "He is an off worlder. You heard how far he will go to get his friend back. His quest will get us killed, or worse, banned from the Settlement. Do you think he cares? Look at him, Finalla. He asked for another way to safe you, but now that I give it to him, he does not look very compliant now, does he?

John drew himself up. "That's because you have a damn whip pointed at my-"

The laser light slashed through the air, missing his face by inches. "I have seen your combat skills, Sheppard," Vex warned in a low voice. John froze. "So you stay put until Finalla has tied you up."

Glaring at the man holding all the cards, John did as he was told. Feeling weary all of a sudden, he sagged back against the tree trunk, watching the slithering light near his legs. "Will you please get that thing away from me? It's making me sick."

Finalla didn't hear him. She was focused on the bindings in Vex's outstretched hand.

"Please, Finalla. I do not want to lose you."

Looking up at the plea in Vex's words, she took the rope as if in trance and walked over to Sheppard, the forest floor dampening her footsteps. She squatted just as she had done a few minutes ago to clean his wounds. "Give me your hands, John."

"Not in front," Vex ordered. "He is too dangerous that way, behind his back."

John smirked and nodded. _Guess he's not as stupid as he looks._ He strained his arms to put them on his back and winced as pain shot up his shoulder when Finalla tightened the bonds.

_I wouldn't have let these council guys take you away, you know, _John intended to say as Finalla pushed him back against the sturdy bark. He caught her eyes, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate. He tried to breathe, the whining sound of the whip mingling with a rushing noise in his ears.

He groaned at the flashback, brought on by the close proximity of the active ore: Rodney coming to his room, John's lame explanation of his actions.

_I merely presented the situation… _

He flinched, recalling McKay's brutally honest retort.

Y_eah, but still, you talked a guy into killing himself…_

Yes, because he hadn't been prepared to lose Rodney, not so close after losing Elizabeth, if ever. He had done no more than Vex was doing now: saving one at the expense of another. He suddenly felt hollow. Emptiness enveloped him, got squeezed in a tight ball and exploded into silver stars piercing his skull with their blinding fury. He fell back against the tree trunk, his vision narrowing.

"He's falling unconscious!" He vaguely heard Finalla's warning.

"It's a trick," Vex's voice entered his awareness. "Be careful"

"I finished tying him up. There's nothing he can do!"

John's chest tightened painfully with his effort to speak, the words coming out in a mere whisper. "Turn it off."

"Vex," Finalla's voice held an edge of panic. "Do what he says!"

"What?"

"The fire-flash, turn it off! It's hurting him!"

Through squinting eyelids, Sheppard saw Vex looking at the whip and then he thankfully flicked a switch, causing the snake-light to disappear.

Immediately the pressure in his chest dropped and his headache subsided. He closed his eyes. The ore in the whip had done its job and left him drained and exhausted.

"His arm his bleeding again, I need to redress the wound."

"No," Vex told her. "We don't want Kethel to suspect we've been helping him. So it is probably best to take off the bandages all together."

A gentle touch jerked John into awareness. He watched Finalla through half closed lids as she started removing the soaked wrappings. "Why…" he whispered.

Her eyes met his. "It's the way of the Settlement, John. I'm sorry."

* * *

Finalla eyed the figure sitting frighteningly still at the base of the tree trunk. Fast asleep, John didn't look threatening at all.

As she told Sheppard before, she was trained to let go. Every Eirulan she had ever assessed had come and gone without her blinking an eye. But Moira, the last one to be taken by Arlon, she had tugged at her heart strings. And now Vex was doing all this for her?

Shoving confused feelings to the background, she watched John again. In all her experience, she had never met someone like him. He did not belong here. That much was clear. Vex was wrong. She could see he cared… perhaps too much.

She moved closer and was startled to see a glistening sheen of sweat wetting his pale features. Something undefined rattled her conscience but she pushed aside the worry with expertise, knowing that this was the only way to gain her full freedom.

She sighed sadly. Then why did it not seem right that Sheppard was the one who had to pay the price.

* * *

**Tbc**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Author's notes: **__thank you for all your thoughts on this story. I very much appreciate it. I wasn't sure Finalla's character worked for instance, but you took those doubts away. Thanks! Things are getting pretty dire and dark from now on, so be warned. Some of you already know that I like happy endings, but it's still a long way until we get there…_

**

* * *

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**Chapter 7**

Closely guarded by Vex, John walked quietly as they crossed the grasslands at night. Some sort of nocturnal goat-like creatures rustled through the long reeds, their shapes moving off as they detected the humans. Once out of the woods, the temperature dropped considerably and John wished he still wore the Eirulan cloak that his two companions-turned-into-scary-aliens had taken away now that they didn't need to hide him anymore.

More than once he tugged at his bindings to relieve the strain on his sore tendons, his wounded arm burning from its unnatural position. Often he noticed Finalla shooting him sorrowful glances but she refrained from talking. Seeing as John would be damned if he gave them both the satisfaction of hearing him complaining, the last few hours had passed in silence. Although he didn't feel as shaky as he had back in the forest, the draining nausea had gotten a firm hold on him.

Halfway through the journey toward the mountains looming ahead he sank down in the knee high grass to throw up the little food he had eaten a few hours ago. He gagged and sat still, letting the wind whip past his face.

"How come the fire-flash has this much effect on you?"

John looked up surprised to find worry etched into Finalla's face. He sighed, contemplating how much to tell her.

"It's the Azunite ore, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Lucky me," he said hoarsely and coughed. "I have the Ancient gene."

She stared at him. "And your friend?"

He shook his head avoiding an answer. Angry at his own helplessness, soft, bitter words left his lips. "You have… no right… to do this."

"We have every right," Vex jumped in.

John jerked his head upright. "Strip me of my freedom? Hand me over to die? That's your way of justice? Not to mention that you're killing McKay in the process."

"I'm saving her life, John!" Vex retorted harshly. "That's all that matters! I know you understand what it is like to protect someone so fiercely that you are prepared to do anything just to keep them safe."

The words hit John like a truck and McKay's voice sounded in his ears again. _You talked a guy into killing himself…_The memory triggered an all consuming frantic fear of loss that he'd tried so hard to suppress. He looked away, afraid his eyes betrayed him.

"I'm keeping well within the Settlement's established law here. So no one can blame me for what I'm doing."

"Except her," he tried one last time.

"She understands," Vex said coldly.

John looked at Finalla who'd slammed a hand over her mouth at Vex's sudden aggressive outbursts. She stood a little off to the side, watching them intensely. _He's right. Even if she doesn't agree,_ _she doesn't want to be purged either. _He was fighting a losing battle.

"Now get up!" Vex demanded. We need to be at the foot of the mountains by daybreak.

By dawn they reached the edge off the grassy plain. Huge snowy peaks rose high up to the sky. The sun had risen and its morning rays reflected sharply of the glittering mountain face, hurting John's eyes.

"Windstone Fortress lies on the other side of the pass, no more than half a day's walk." Finalla motioned toward a wide track cutting straight through rising slopes on either side.

"A fortress, huh," John said not surprised that a man like Kethel would surround himself with the best defenses possible.

Vex gave him a sour look. "Windstone was built to protect the mines," he nodded in the direction they were going. "Deeper in, the pass widens. It's an easy walk from here."

_Oh yeah, sure. Easy... _John couldn't count the number of times he'd stumbled and fallen on his knees, most of the time painfully hard. He warily eyed the bluish color shining between patches of pine tree-like green and hard white rock; idly hoping the blue blotches represented lakes and not huge chunks of Azunite ore. The pressure rising in his chest and head told him otherwise though.

Finalla tugged him forward on the rocky track and Sheppard followed Vex as the man led them deeper into the mountains.

The pass meandered its way steadily between two rocky giants and after an hour or so, the air got an icy bite to it. It wasn't long before thick white flakes fell from the gray laden sky. The sun was nowhere to be seen. John bit his lip and kept walking. He stubbornly stared ahead as he struggled onwards through amassing flocks of white fluffy snow covering the bluish rock on either side of them.

His headache had intensified and he squinted, stumbling over the uneven ground as the ore's presence caused him to lose his equilibrium. He felt dizzy, finding it hard to keep a sense of direction. His wound burned, clashing with what he feared was a rising fever and he shivered violently. The next thing he knew he was down on the ground, breathing hard through teeth still rattling with the impact of his knees slamming into unforgiving rock.

"He can't go on like this!" Finalla yelled to get heard over the sound of the wind blowing fiercely through the pass. "I'm going to untie him."

"No!"

Too tired to move, let alone stand up, John focused on his breathing, taking the opportunity to get some air back into his lungs.

"I'll be forced to use the fire-flash to keep him in line, Finalla. You know what that did to him last time." Vex's voice rang in his ears. "You hear that, Sheppard! Your choice!"

The sound of feet on rocks told him Finalla moved to his side. "Please, John. You have to get up," she sounded frightened.

Her worry did the trick and he gritted his teeth, trying to muster enough strength to get his feet under him one more time.

* * *

He shouldn't react, shouldn't tell the group of workers -skin on bone and hardly able to keep standing- that he was doing this for the Settlement, _for Eirulan and its whole sorry state of-_ Rodney reeled back, slamming against the wall of the underground tunnel as the bracelet audibly buzzed, plunging him into the torturing depths of never ending pain.

He screamed, desperately trying to close his mind and retreat back into his safe spot where no one could reach him. The smell of fear and sweat hung thickly in the air and he heard the men laugh and cackle as he crawled away from them. He should never have listened to their calls, but he'd been so desperate for any kind of conversation that he'd let his guard slip.

He skirted the edges of the mining tunnel, halting around a corner until the agony subsided into a dull ache, his fingers twitching uncontrollably. Shakily, he stood up. Even the overseer saw him as a source for a good laugh, drawing him out just to get a reaction from the bracelet.

Rodney swallowed, blinking away pain-born tears and he moved forward. He kept his eyes down, shying away from other workers as he made his way from the depths of the mines where the other scientists were located back to Kethel's laboratory.

More workers barred the way, men, women, criminals to the Settlement, chopping away the hard stone with pick axes to reach the raw Azunite underneath, its blue shine lighting their skeletal faces. He tried to shut out the despair. Workers were dropping like flies in these tunnels and despite having to pass through only once a day, he felt his life fade, the ore's energy emissions so powerful, Rodney could almost taste it.

He hurried past, feeling a strange kind of melancholy for these people who'd once objected to the will of the settlement and were now forced to live out the remainder of their lives deep underground. But at least, even down here in this deadly prison their minds were free. He suppressed the urge to fight the boundaries of allowed thought, knowing he was lucky to not have to work the mines, privileged, to not have to process the raw ore in the main laboratory with the other scientists he'd just visited.

More guards, who thankfully left him alone, some steps, and a rising slope later finally had him enter the ground level corridors. He coughed, grateful for the fresh cold air running through the large upper tunnels.

_It must be snowing outside. _

The fleeting image of pine trees and a Canadian winter was gone before he could actively push it aside.

Despite his occasional lapse in control, it had become easier to forget his past and live for the Settlement.

As he neared the exit to the mines, the tunnel widened and was lit with torches set at regular intervals along the wall. Between them, iron doors were embedded in the rock. This was where Kethel housed the new arrivals, potential workers who had defied the will of the Settlement in one way or another. They were doomed to die.

All of them.

"McKay!"

Rodney froze in his tracks at hearing the voice from his nightmares. His own breathing rang in his ears. Pain started and the bracelet worked its way up to a buzzing state. He staggered, desperately trying to shut his mind.

"Rodney."

He had to move, had to keep control and managed one step forward. The next one was easier and he walked on, continuing his journey toward his goal for the good for the Settlement.

* * *

John sank down to the floor of his small prison. Rodney had passed him by without as much as a glance in his direction. He swallowed and rubbed a hand over his face. These walls were riddled with ore and though trying to fight its effects, he knew he couldn't keep his strength up much longer.

Squeezed between two huge mountain slopes, Windstone fortress hugged the mining entrance like a protective mother. The road had stopped dead at the entrance where huge doors had led them through thick walls. Two watchtowers lined either side of the doors from which guards marched up and down the battlements. The fortress housed far more than just Kethel's house. All along the rim of the huge inner cobblestone court there were smithies and stables, guardhouses and armories. Across from the entrance, large iron gates presumably led towards the mines. After that his memory blurred because he'd lost consciousness only to wake up in this cupboard sized prison.

Emotions spun all out of control the moment he'd opened his eyes, the blue of the walls penetrating him to his core. Somehow he'd managed to stand up, clutching the iron bars in an effort to keep his equilibrium. Breathing had never taken so much effort but he'd persevered, concentrating to keep awake.

Images and feelings locked up so deep inside in an effort to forget them forever had assaulted him with raw and blinding intensity. He'd groaned at the sheer number of people he'd lost. Back in Afghanistan, in Atlantis, every marine, every person he had to leave behind, had fallen into the hands of the enemy because he couldn't save them. Carson… Elizabeth… He felt responsible for all of them. At least Teyla and Ronon were safe. But Rodney… he hadn't been able to keep his word. Hadn't been able to-

And then McKay had approached through the corridor. At first he'd thought he was seeing things, but all too soon he'd recognized the familiar shape. Rodney looked well, freezing at his call. For a moment, John thought he'd seen recognition flutter across the man's features, but then his friend's expression had hardened and the traces of the McKay he knew, the one he'd still seen bits of back at that God awful auction, had vanished before his eyes.

_John, promise me you won't let them put those things on me. You have no idea how destructive they are…_

He tried to quench the memory, his voice weak as he called out one more time, watching powerlessly as McKay had walked on until he'd disappeared from sight.

John felt himself slip into unconsciousness again but refused to give in. He lowered his head, his hands clenching into fists at the sudden unchecked hatred for Kethel causing bile to rise in his throat. He briefly fought the overwhelming blackness of revenge but then thought better of it and let go, sheer anger keeping him awake.

* * *

**Tbc**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's notes:**__thank you for all your reviews! I love hearing your thoughts and speculations. On that note: no rescue yet though. Sorry. Once again a word of warning, things turn even more grim. So if you can't stand the heat… vacate the cooking area. Having said that, there's light on the horizon, but you'll have to squint to find it…_

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**Chapter 8**

Confused, Finalla hesitated near the cells, unsure if she could face the consequence of what she had done. Bring John in for the good of the Settlement. _Betrayed him and left him to die, _a small voice in her head countered,nurtured by both Sheppard's accusing words and Vex's harsh actions.

Why was she even here?

_To convince myself that I have done the right thing_, she thought determinedly.

She had free reign of the mines, because part of her job was to make sure potential scientists ended up in the right divisions by assessing their mental strengths and weaknesses. Leaving Vex safe at Kethel's place where they were told to await their reward, she found herself drawn inexplicably to the underground cells holding the newly caught captives. _John's views are dangerous… they are morally incorrect. But has Vex not done the same? Go that extra length just to save me?_

Taking a deep breath, she was about to step forward when she heard Sheppard call out. Watching from the shadows where John did not notice her, she suddenly noticed McKay stagger to a halt.

_It is not possible,_ she thought taken aback as McKay walked on. She sought out the bracelet around the scientist's wrist when he passed her hiding place. _He is purged! He should not show even the slightest reaction, let alone stop in his tracks_! Her heart sank. John had been right. They were different. But just as she thought that, she saw Sheppard sink down, deflate as if the life was drawn out of him right then and there, _his_ reaction sadly predictable. She had warned him not to care so much.

She swallowed a rising feeling of compassion and decided to talk to the scientist to find out if Rodney was still fighting. It would not change the Lantians' situation, but if she assessed that Rodney's brief hesitation wasn't due to him wanting to help John, then at least her conviction that Sheppard's quest had been a foolish one, still stood strong.

Housed in one of the few natural caves near the mining entrance, Kethel's laboratory was small yet not unlike numerous others she had visited during her travels to fulfill her duty as an assessor. She noticed Rodney sitting at a huge table, the top covered with chunks of ore, pieces of papers, and equipment of which function she could only guess at. She had a basic understanding of what went on in what laboratory, yet this lab had always been a mystery to her.

The scientist whipped around at the sound of her footsteps and she marveled at his reaction speed. Dulled blue eyes took in her presence and she noted the barest hint of intelligence shining behind them. He still wore the same strange off world clothing she had also seen on Sheppard. "Rodney McKay?" His alien name felt strange in her mouth.

He looked wary as most of the newly purged scientists did when she had to assess them. "Who are you?"

She circled a bench and sat down on a stool next to him. "I am here to assess you. My name is Finalla."

Rodney frowned. "Kethel told me he would send one down to talk to me. What do you want to know?"

His straightforward automated question was one she had heard many times. Most scientists were starved for a conversation by the time an assessor came along and the bracelet urged them to cooperate in any way possible. She cocked her head. "Why were you not sent to work down in the main laboratory along with the other scientists?"

"Kethel needed someone to work on his project," he answered, his body relaxing as the bracelet allowed him to talk to her.

"And you feel you are the right man to do the job?"

He didn't hesitate in his answer. "I have a wider range of basic knowledge than most of the others, yes."

She needed to draw him out more. "Because you are Lantian?"

"I wouldn't know," he said looking genuinely confused. "Keeping the Settlement safe is all that matters."

Finalla studied his face. There was no sign of any struggle. Sheppard's views and actions had rattled her, scaring her to the bone but now she released a pent up breath, feeling herself calm down for the first time in days. So far McKay had answered no differently from other purged scientists. She nodded, ready to leave.

"What about John?" she spoke off hand.

"J… John?"

She snapped her head up at his stuttering voice, just in time to watch something flashing behind the man's eyes. Her unease grew until it seemed to choke her. McKay's face went slack again, but not before Finalla recognized the sliver of fear that had nothing to do with his fright for the purging ring. This still did not mean Sheppard and McKay were a threat to her beliefs or to the Settlement for that matter. "Do you…" she controlled her shaking voice and tried again. "Do you remember him?"

"He's a danger to Eirulan if that what's you mean," Rodney said calmly.

His unexpected take on Sheppard's presence surprised her. It explained the silent conversation she had thought she had seen back at the auction between him and John. McKay saw Sheppard as a danger and had warned him to keep away. She sighed, uncomfortable feelings evaporating from her body. "Then you should feel grateful that we have him safely in custody."

Rodney nodded. Was that relief she saw? "Yes, I know," he looked her straight in the eyes. "He should have known better than to call out to me from that miserable prison cell. I nearly went over to punch his lights out."

_So that is why he hesitated back in the corridor! _The purging ring took what it could use -emotions and memories associated with friendship- and twisted them to benefit the Settlement. She still felt guilty about what they'd done to John, but if he posed such a threat to the settlement as Rodney told her -and from what she'd learned from her dealings with Sheppard, she could not disagree- then bringing him in had been the right thing to do.

Giving the scientist a genuine smile, she stood up to head back to Vex. "That is all for now, Rodney. Perhaps we will meet again later." She briefly touched his arm, firmly dismissing the flicker of sadness crossing his features as a reflection of her own unwillingness to leave. He turned around and went back to work.

* * *

The quietness of the councilman's study was a façade, the alcohol-like smell, the warm fire and the bookcases only served to heighten his anxiety. Standing next to Kethel's desk across the from the fire place, Rodney shifted his feet on the lush red carpet. He watched as two guards dragged Sheppard to the wall where Kethel liked to evaluate his prisoners before distributing them either to his science laboratories or the mines. Thick iron clamps closed on the colonel's wrists, two chains securing them to the brick wall next to the stone mantelpiece.

"McKay!" Dressed in one of his elaborate purplish robes, the councilman glowered at him, a reprimand that his lack of attention was not acceptable.

Startled, Rodney wrenched his eyes away from the dancing fire and the prisoner next to it who hadn't lifted his head since. The guards quickly left the room, probably to report back to one of the two watch towers. They knew this could take a while.

Leaning back against the desk, Kethel nodded at Sheppard. "Tell me what makes him a threat to the Settlement."

Oh thank God he could answer this one. It was easy. Rodney opened his mouth to answer when John lifted his head. Green eyes caught him, held him. For a second he read swirls of pain… worry and grief… He blinked, took a step back and when he looked again all he'd thought he'd seen had vanished behind cold eyes. The bracelet tingled, his fingers twitched.

Sheppard hung heavily in the chains, not a groan escaping his lips, despite the strain on his wounded arm. Somehow Rodney knew that John would rather die then to let Kethel see- The thought abruptly dissipated, trailing away as it reached the obliterated pathways in his mind.

Other worries took its place. "He's a danger, because he questions our morals, our way of life. I've known him to kill, Kethel."_ Colonel-I-have-to-protect-them-all will not hesitate to take us all out if he thinks… _His throat closed before he could utter another sound.

"What have you done to him?" John bit.

Rodney froze, Sheppard's voice tugging at something hard and unresponsive.

The councilman smiled, obviously pleased with what he heard. "Nothing," he said and stepped forward.

McKay noticed the sheen of sweat, the feverish pale features and the shallow breaths as the colonel drew himself up to face his captor. Rodney swallowed. How come Kethel didn't see the weakness? The fact that John would never hurt those he… The lump in his throat thickened. He closed his eyes, retreating from the iced over surfaces of his mind.

Kethel's smug voice sounded again. "He's purged, which makes him subservient to the Settle-"

"Subservient my ass!" Sheppard hit the wall behind him with clenched fists, tearing Rodney out of his safe place. "You turned him into one of your walking zombies! The McKay I know would never…" John clamped his mouth shut as if he'd said too much, hatred sparking his eyes.

_Oh God, he's talking about me. Of course he's talking about you! Who else did you think-_ He tried to shut the thought out but the associated warmth was too powerful, seeping through fissures where it managed to thaw the permafrost in his mind.

"Would never what?" Kethel leaned in. "Told us of his relief when we finally captured you?

McKay couldn't deny the flash of betrayal crossing John's features right before they darkened and a mask of cold hard irony slipped into place. "Well, I'm disappointed," John started, staring passed Kethel. "Instead of all the negatives…" His breathing faltered. "How about next time… you mention my natural optimism or the whole you save my ass and I save yours… Rodney."

Rodney looked away, his stomach twisting uncomfortably with undefined emotion.

"Don't presume for one second," Kethel hissed, "that I neglect those in my care. Tell him, McKay."

Rodney kept his eyes glued to Kethel to keep from stuttering. "He um… lets me run the science department from the safety of his own laboratory. I do have to navigate the mines occasionally, but I shouldn't be exposed long enough to the raw ore for it to threaten my life," he droned. "Kethel knows my value, and awarded it accordingly."

"Oh and I don't?"

His eyes snapped back to Sheppard. The emotions washing over John's face holding him rooted to the spot, his gut reaction came too quick for the bracelet to eradicate. _Yes… yes of course you do-_ The purging ring flared and his skin tingled with pain. Cold crept up. Oh God. The bracelet would find him, rip him apart!He scrambled back, dropping his thoughts and fleeing to where his mind was still dark. "I-"

"No, Rodney," John interrupted harshly, punctuating every word. "Tell me this was your own choice and I'll leave you alone!"

The bracelet allowed a partial truth, causing the words to stream from his mouth. "It's nice and safe here, Sheppard. No Wraith, no impending doom, no friends to worry about." His eyes narrowed, his fingers twisted. "I abide by the will of the Settlement. Trust me, it's not so bad once you get used to it."

John stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, the tightening of his lips the only sign of his sudden unease.

Kethel smiled with approval. "You see? I only want what is best for all of us."

"Don't give me that 'I-care-for-my-people' crap,"

Sheppard sounded bitter, tired even, causing Rodney's feelings to stir in that low rumbling noise that the bracelet could not pick up on.

"The council enforces the Will of the Settlement," Sheppard glared at Kethel. "And you're in control of the council. It's all about power."

Kethel smiled and nodded. "Very clever. Perhaps… too clever?" He eyed John with suspicion. "I can always use more scientists."

"Slap one of those things on me," John whispered. "And it'll be the last thing you'll ever do."

He glanced at Kethel, expecting an explosive reaction but the man was distracted by the opening of the door.

"So, is he worth the prize we asked for?" The male Eirulan who'd trailed Finalla inside looked at Sheppard with a dark scowl. He was a head taller than Rodney, his predatory glare betraying that he had a hand in the colonel's capture. John lowered his head, chin dipping to his chest.

_Something's wrong… It isn't like Sheppard to- _An aching sensation ran over Rodney's flesh, from wrist to shoulder all the way down his spine, freezing his insides in painful little throbs and forcing him to speak up. He felt his mouth work. "The gene's affecting him."

The councilman turned around. "What gene?" he demanded harshly.

Rodney struggled with the answer. "It… The ore… Sheppard has the Ancient gene." John didn't look up, just shook his head at what Rodney supposed felt as another stab in the back. The words kept coming. "Me too… but mine's artificial, I … I think it makes a difference. I mean, I only suffer a headache, I think he's dealing with much worse."

Kethel took two steps, bringing him close to Finalla. "Explain what he means by that."

She looked resigned, her dark eyes glancing over John, than back at Kethel. "Eirulan lore teaches us the Ancients all but certain fled our world because the ore, even in its processed state, had a destructive effect on them."

"Surprise…" Sheppard's drawl drew their attention. "Guess… I'm not much good in your mines after all…" He looked up, face twisted in a wry grin. "What with the … blue wall decoration you got going in there…" His mouth drew tight and his eyes drifted, chains rattling as he fought to keep standing.

Kethel's reddened face stood thunderous. He turned to Vex. "You wanted to trade full immunity," his voice slowed to that deceptive low pitch McKay knew all too well, "for a useless Lantian?" The man was about to lose his patience.

"He is still valuable. Imagine the experiments you could run on him." Vex shot back.

Breathing sharply through his nose, Kethel moved close to Sheppard. "I don't think so," he snorted. John followed him through bleary eyes. The councilman tightened a hand around the colonel's jaw, pressing him into the wall. John wrapped his fingers around the chains to keep his balance, grunting when it strained his injury. "He's too weak. He will not last another-"

A warning echoed in Rodney's mind but he didn't know why. The blur in his head departed, revealing the memory of John's frightening dark side. He opened his mouth, but Vex beat him to it and then it was too late. John kicked out hard, hitting Kethel in the knees. Before 200 pounds could crash to the ground, Sheppard had the man tugged to his chest, good arm, chain and all, locked tight around the thick throat.

Vex, who had barged forward, froze at the sight.

"Now," John said hoarsely, eyes spitting poison. The muscles in his lower arm tensed. Kethel wheezed, eyes bulging out of their sockets, his hands fighting Sheppard's steel grip. Sweat ran down the colonel's temple. "Get these chains off of me."

Rodney knew John wasn't about to let go.

Kethel shot Vex a panicked glare. "Do it!" he rasped.

The man didn't hesitate and unlocked the bolts from Sheppard's wrists. With his hands freed, John staggered against the back wall, taking Kethel with him.

Terror streaked the councilman's features. Then they morphed into sudden realization. "He has the gene, you fool!" he gasped at Vex. "Use the fire-flash!"

"No! Don't-" A whooshing noise shattered the air, drowning John's voice, the whip's brightness lighting up the room like thunderbolts in a darkened sky. Sheppard sank down on his knees, releasing Kethel, losing his strength. When Vex flipped the switch again and the whip seized its slithering, he sat panting on the floor with glazed eyes.

A shudder stole over Rodney. The bracelet's icy tendrils pierced the insides of his skull. Whimpering softly with pain, he felt like he was trapped in a tornado with nowhere to go.

* * *

**Tbc**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's note: **__thanks for all the reviews, alerting and faving! The plot is unraveling. I rewrote this chapter a number of times. In the end the direction the story is taking below was the only one that felt 'right.' And more angst coming up…_

**

* * *

****Chapter 9**

"Way, way too dangerous…" Kethel rasped, leaning forward against the desk.

Sheppard smiled, which he supposed must look pretty scary. His limbs felt like four dead logs, he couldn't move, darkness closed in but Kethel's choked noises made him feel damn good right now. With effort he lifted his head, searching out the one person he had to admit he could need at the moment. Rodney's expression stood emotionless.

Kethel snapped around. "I think it's safe to say that we've passed the experimental phase," he spoke hoarsely, rounding on Sheppard, but staying, John was pleased to note, out of arms range. "In time, we will have all the scientists we need, so many in fact that we don't have to play to their strengths anymore. Assessors, my dear Finalla, will become redundant."

"What?"Finalla stammered. "How?"

"Let's just say that the device McKay's working on will be a lot less… selective in those deemed worthy to be purged."

"You're crazy," Sheppard heaved. _The purging rings… he let Rodney… widen the range of the things_. John had no doubt that McKay had done what was asked of him. Worse, he performed even better under duress. Biting his lip, Sheppard stared at his friend who nodded his agreement at Kethel. Acid fingers of betrayal tightened its hold.

"I will do whatever it takes to keep the Settlement safe," Kethel sneered. He took a deep breath. "As for you… John." his lips twitched with sudden cruelty. "I think you have lived long enough." He stepped back. "Vex."

Instantly, the high pitched sound of the laser whip filled the room again. Sheppard winced, waiting for the final blow, the embedded ore already ripping inner walls to shreds. He breathed through pain and nausea, finding to his relief that Vex hadn't moved.

"Best do as I say, Vex," Kethel said low but loud enough to be heard, "if you want the Settlement to acknowledge your part in bringing him in."

"He's never going to give her full immunity," John countered, unsure if the man could even hear him.

Vex's eyes settled on Finalla.

She shook her head in sympathy, obviously confident that he would make the right decision.

"It is of no consequence," Kethel bit. "What matters to the Settlement is that Sheppard's usefulness has ended, right McKay?"

John struggled, locking eyes with McKay who watched… detached. Stripped of his emotional barriers, he couldn't quell a surge of loss weighing him down, clouding his anger and enforcing his fears. Shaking with pain, it was all he could do to keep breathing.

Kethel didn't wait for an answer. "So you either kill him now, or I'll make sure that you will spend the rest of what I promise will be a short life, down in the mines."

Vex stepped forward, the whip's screeching noise and white glare increasing until they filled John's senses. He vaguely heard Finalla cry out. _Should have known… he's the average Joe who -when push comes to shove- sticks to his safety zone. Well… crap. _He stubbornly clenched his fingers in a last ditch effort to defend himself and tried to look up, tried to find McKay, but he couldn't dredge up the energy and knew he'd come to the end of the line.

Vex flicked his wrist and struck without further warning.

John jerked away at the lightning slashing through the air, its solid whiteness, flaring through closed lids, smashed into him. He crashed to the ground, was aware of a vague sound leaving his lips and then hotness spread all over his body, obliterating his consciousness.

* * *

Finalla screamed as the whip flashed through the air. Within these last few moments she'd seen her chances on full immunity shatter before her eyes. Part of her agreed with Kethel, understood that the safety of the Settlement was at stake. But another part of her, touched by passed days events, looked upon Vex with horror. She stood frozen on the spot, watching the fire-flash come down hard on Sheppard.

Something moved in the glare of the light, speeding past her and knocking John over. Finalla's voice caught in her throat as Vex's weapon slashed with a horrifying high screech, whitening the world around her. When she could see again, Vex sat slumped against the desk, breathing low moans, and two figures lay deathly still against the cupboard. One… was McKay.

She covered her mouth in shock.

He had jumped.

He couldn't have.

A wet film clouded her vision. Her whole world tumbled upside down, rocked the foundations of everything she fought for and believed in. No, she could not accept he was not fully purged. There had to be another explanation. She just had to look for it.

Kethel stood rigid, staring in incomprehension at the two Lantians. Shakily, Finalla moved forward, needing to know if they were still alive. She sank down. McKay had shielded John from the brunt of the attack and had slid sideways. She gently rolled him over. In the weak light of sunset streaming in through the window of the study, she could see his closed eyes and still features, a quietness brought on by more than sleep.

He was no longer breathing.

Tasting salty wetness, she turned her attention to John, groping for his wrist. A steady pulse streaked her fingers. A sob of relief left her throat, doing nothing to dispel the gravity of the situation.

_I am so sorry John Sheppard_, she thought. Crushed by guilt, she caught Vex's eyes and pushed out her thoughts before anger could choke her. "The scientist is dead."

Vex nodded.

His harsh acceptance flooded her with tears, McKay's actions rattling her more than his passing did. Despite her doubts about the purging ring losing control, even for the briefest of moments, she acknowledged the Lantians stubbornness. Sheppard was right.

They were different enough to get killed on this world.

_

* * *

_

Sheppard snapped his eyes open, confused by the moving blurs around him. He coughed, tasting the sharp tang of electrified air. Blinking rapidly, he tried make sense of the pain running amok right beneath his skin. As if someone had stabbed needles beneath his fingernails. His whole body felt sore and his unfortunate mishap on that planet P-something with its electric wildlife grids flashed before his inner mind's eye.

"Are you okay?"

Either Teyla had gone all girly-voice on him, or this wasn't her. He tightened his jaw, determined to clear his vision. With effort he recognized Finalla and his confusion grew. Swallowing at the nausea rolling through his body like a tidal wave, he closed his eyes and groaned. The pain cheerfully throbbed along with cold spells of fever and he felt perfectly justified lying here for the next hour or so. "What the hell happened?"

He heard a soft sob and squinted to look straight into Finalla's wet filmed brown eyes. Something inside recoiled at the sorrow swirling behind them, worry followed in its wake. He snapped his head sideways. Rodney looked deathly quiet, like so many others he had lost, except that there was no wound, only silence brought on by death.

Ignoring his spinning head, he scrambled into a sitting position, mind racing to put two and two together.

The electric shock he'd felt...

Pressing a finger to Rodney's neck, he found the carotid artery, but to his dismay could hardly feel a thing through his tingling fingers.

"John, don't. You'll only make it worse for yourself," Finalla cried again.

… McKay had stood in the way of whatever had caused that power surge.

John shook his hands in the air, gritting his teeth against the pain as he forced life back into his extremities. He pressed his throbbing palms, now sensitive to touch, on his friend's chest. But he didn't feel a thing. Rodney wasn't breathing. His heart had stopped. _Crap! _His feelings blurred, tightened in the face of overwhelming grief. "How long was I out!?"

"Barely a moment, but-"

He ignored her, pushing down on the still warm chest.

"What are you doing? You can't-" her voice ended in a sob.

Yes, he held on. Because it was all he could do. If he gave in to despair, they might as well leave him here. "Come on, Rodney. Don't do this to me," he whispered between pushing down on the ribcage and blowing air into his friend's lungs. Something clattered to the ground, McKay's bracelet, blackened, and broken. John swallowed. The whip and the purging ring must have shortened each other out. God, no one could survive that kind of shock lashing through your body.

"John, please?"

"No!" He kept trying, kept pushing. "Damn it, McKay! You're pissing me off here!"

Rodney jerked, arched his head back and gasped, flooding John with relief. McKay inhaled frantic breaths, all the while shooting panicked glances to nowhere in particular.

"How?" Vex asked perplexed.

John only now noticed him sitting apparently knocked out near Kethel. Feeling raw with fatigue, he didn't have the strength to explain. Shadows drifted through his vision and he needed to move before exhaustion would take him out completely. "Hey buddy, are you okay?" McKay settled down and he withdrew his hands.

"Sheppard?" Fear crossed his friend's features, like a child expecting to be slapped.

John felt sick knowing that Rodney had just reacted to something that was no longer there. He glanced at the bracelet near the wall. "It's gone."

"No, no, no, no!"

Startled by McKay's reaction, Sheppard stared at him.

Rodney shot up into a sitting position to watch his empty wrist. "I was safe…" He shook his head in clear denial, and then buckled over, pressing his fists into his eyes. "Sheppard… I was safe there!"

John looked at him, taken aback. The cold feeling in his stomach coiled and twisted at the evidence right before him that things were not okay, that this wasn't the acerbic McKay he'd grown to love like a brother. Rodney had feared the damn bracelet, warned him of its destructive capability. But he'd thought… after he'd get rid of the thing… Rodney would be okay.

"He'll never be the same again, you know," Kethel muttered, still standing near the desk. He'd watched the scene in quietness, but apparently had found his voice again.

With a snarl Sheppard threw himself up and at Kethel. The man staggered back. John swung hard, knocking the councilman out cold.

"You didn't have to-"

"Yes I did!" He swung around only to realize it was McKay who had spoken.

Rodney watched him, eyes wide but not fearful.

"Can't have him alerting the guards," John said. Walking over to McKay, he glared at Vex. "Try getting in my way and I'll kill you."

Vex shook his head, his expression grim. "I'm not inclined to do so, Sheppard. I want you to take Finalla with you."

Fighting to hide sudden vertigo, John refrained from turning around and snapping back that no way in hell would he let any one of them guide him anywhere ever again. Instead, he pulled Rodney to his feet.

"If you want to get off this planet," Vex said with an edge to his voice, "you are going to need her. She knows the back roads, where to get food and water, how to avoid trouble. It is a long way back to the Great Traveling Ring and the road is dangerous."

John hoisted Rodney's arm over his shoulder. Moments ago, this man had been his executioner and now pleaded with him to keep Finalla from getting purged. He felt tired from all the sudden mood swings going on around him. He regarded Finalla, whose face stood full of hurt. Clearly Vex's recent bout of dark behavior had more than just rattled her. Despite his aversion against having her along for the ride, he knew Vex was right. They needed all the help they could get. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Better hurry it up." He moved away to let them have their moment or whatever these Eirulans did to say their goodbyes. "We don't want to be here when the big boss wakes up."

* * *

"We made it out of Windstone!" Finalla yelled from the driver's seat.

John landed hard on the bed of the cart. The wagon lurched again. He tried to get up but thought better of it when lots of somethings impacted on the outside, tearing the canvas apart. Arrows hammered in the wagon's wooden frame, echoing the frantic thumping of his heart, adrenaline keeping all his crappy bodily weaknesses at bay for now.

Finalla's high pitched screams complimented the whooshing sounds rushing passed them. John narrowly escaped from being pin cushioned by shoving him and Rodney between two wooden crates. "Someone really should go and tell them that!" he snapped, tugging his sore arm close to his chest. Beneath him, wheels raced over the cobblestone road

"We should not have taken Kethel's wagon!" Finalla yelled fearfully. "Everyone knows what it looks like!"

"I didn't know it was Kethel's!" John retorted than glanced at Rodney. "You could have said something you know." He rolled so he could get a better view out the back. _Crap, looks like the entire regiment is following us! _At least two dozen soldiers poured out of the fortress's gate and onto the stone road, some of them riding banthas. He looked over his shoulder.

Rodney blinked as if unsure John had spoken. "The crate on your left," he said quietly.

Wondering what the hell McKay was talking about, John reached out to flick the top of the wooden box. He felt inside and his eyes widened. "Son of a-" He yanked at the crate so it toppled over and pulled out its contents. "You knew?"

"It was… part of the bargain." Rodney swallowed. "Sort of a… buy a vacuum cleaner and you get a dust-buster for free."

John grimaced, not liking the comparison. He took the C4 then handed their two TAC vests to Rodney. "Put it on and get one up front to Finalla." He shot another glance in the box. "No P-90's, that's a shame." Bit of a lucky find, but still, he wasn't complaining. He wasn't worried about the pursuing soldiers. They were on foot and wouldn't be able to catch up with them. The bantha riders however were another matter. Multiple hooves hitting hard pavement gained on the poor two beasts pulling their wagon, reminding him sickly of the hunt that had started this whole mess.

He didn't have then what he did now, however.

"Hang on! This is going to be loud!" He dropped the C4 out of the back, waited until their pursuers were in range and then detonated it just short of the group, sending rocks, sand and glistening Azunite riddled stone flying in all directions.

Finalla screamed again.

Grinning at the resulting chaos, Sheppard repeated the procedure with the last of the C4. The beasts drew away in fear, their riders lost control and the whole herd of banthas stampeded off in the opposite direction toward the upcoming foot soldiers.

"That should hold them off for a while." He sat back, watching McKay drawing himself up in the far end corner near the front. Rodney wore the TAC vest. He'd done everything John had asked of him… in silence… not complaining once, like any good little Eirulan wearing a purging ring would do. He usually sidestepped the emotional backwash after a search-and-retrieval mission. God knew they'd gone on those too many times, but now he couldn't seem to shake Kethel words. They mixed like poison with a scary tale Carson had once told him.

A story about an experiment where a fish was put in an aquarium with smaller fish it liked to eat. Only the smaller fish were in a glass container so the big fish couldn't get to them, no matter how hard it tried or how hungry it got. Then after some time, the people took the glass away and let the little fish swim around the tank. The bigger fish ignored the little fish and eventually starved to death because it thought it couldn't get to them.

John was trained to run himself down on adrenaline, but now that the rush wore off, he knew he was in trouble. A feverish heat washed over him and he gladly let it dull all the freaky feelings invoked by said story. The tarpaulin drawn over the cart caught a breeze and strained against its confines, instantly dispelling the warmth. He shivered and stiffened when a wave of emotion turned into an all out storm front, their tidal pools ripping him apart. _Okay… this is new, _he thought just before overwhelming pain swept him away.

Outside, the sky grew dark as the banthas' frantic pace pulled them away from the ore-riddled mountains towards home.

* * *

**Tbc**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Author's note: **__Whoohoo, Rodney's finally rescued and they're heading for home. Now, at this point I could have them back in Atlantis in no time, and then go and write some much needed comfort scenes. But where would the fun be in that? So, I decided to mix the comfort and healing in with some more Angst. Let's face it, neither John nor Rodney are nowhere near okay. Thanks for the reviews! They tell me what you think and even though this story is finished, they help me tweak the storyline and add a scene here and there. For all you Rodney fans (and I'm one of them) it felt so good writing a chapter with him back at John's side._

_So, I hope you enjoyed the uphill ride, because we're going down again…_

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Finding it hard to grasp his current situation, Rodney felt like he moved through a black and white world where only the occasional question or order shot in his direction offered contrast. Sunlight had long since faded, filling him with relief. As long as he stayed in the shadows and didn't move from his place in the corner of the wagon, it was like he was back in his mind where nobody could reach him.

He felt safe in the dark.

As dawn approached, the wagon lumbered through the undergrowth of a massive forest. Their transport ceased its shaking when they finally stopped for the night. Rodney hardly felt the difference, trembling so hard that his teeth clattered. He hadn't slept much, just dozed off here and there. _Not awake… I'm not awake… They can't hurt me if I'm not awake…_

"Get away from me…"

The voice smudged the edges of his world into gray, drawing him out of his safe haven. Confused, he glanced at the shadow that was John, a curtain lifting from his mind the longer he studied him. It struck McKay how weary the man looked. He tensed but couldn't bring himself to do more, still too infused with the memory of pain.

"Just let me attend to your wound." Finalla's female shape hid the opening. "Then I will check for pursuers and find us something to eat."

"I said no," the whispered response came.

Sheppard's weak voice pushed through the nausea of confusing memories. _No, Stay safe, stay hidden! _Worry clenched his stomach, wouldn't go away. He cringed, expecting crippling pain and icy tendrils that would make him tremble until his mind broke into a zillion different pieces.

Gritting his teeth against smothering fear, he waited.

There was no pain. Warily, he opened his mind.

One thought at a time...

_He saw himself working on the Azunite device, __well aware of the restrictions placed on his mind. The crystal was so powerful that its effects could reach far and wide. He wondered if the Ancients had used it, wondered what had happened to them. If only he could run more tests… more… _

_No! No, no, no, no. _Pinching his eyes closed, he pressed the palms of his hands on his eyelids, desperately trying to cut off his train of thought. He latched onto memories etched into his mind from when he was free, when he could fight, when he could still dream, and he remembered the moment when it was all taken away. The scorching winds, the flashing of the whip when John tried to protect him...

He looked up, sucking in a breath.

How long ago had the hunt taken place? How long had he been under the influence of the bracelet? His eyes darted to Sheppard.

Worry turned into dread. Lowering his guard in the middle of enemy territory, sleeping all through the night, all through their retreat… That wasn't Sheppard. Before his traitorous thoughts could stop him, he'd drawn himself up. Pushing through self conceived terrors and pain he crawled over and settled himself next to his friend.

"McKay, be careful," Finalla warned. "He does not want anyone to touch him. You know how dangerous he can be."

Ignoring her, he lifted a hand and froze, fighting the manic urge to scramble back into his dark corner. John's lack of reaction… and he'd been wounded… how long… how long ago? Warmth grazed his finger tips, thawing his mind, and he looked down to see he had gripped Sheppard's sleeve. A feverish heat burned right through the fabric, instantly turning his fears around, turning them outward. He pulled John his way. "Oh God," he spoke quietly.

"Hey, Rodney," Sheppard spoke softly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "It's not … as bad as it looks."

McKay looked at the mess that was Sheppard's left arm. "Are you kidding me?" he snapped, John's attempt at lightheartedness opening the floodgates of long suppressed anger. He delved in his vest pocket to lift out the small flash light and aimed it at his friend. _Oh… so not good… so not good. _He took in the sheen of sweat, the pale features, the rasped breathing. And there, hidden beneath two pools of hazel and green was the pain that had latched onto him back in Kethel's study. "What the hell did you people do to him?!"

Finalla squinted at the light suddenly pointing in her direction. "We treated his wound."

"Oh, oh you did, huh? With what? Bantha crap? Some local plant life you pasted on his skin days ago!" He inhaled a deep breath, fighting down the rising panic. His mind felt slow. _Pressure bandages, something to battle the infection... Do we even have all that stuff? _"Give me your vest!"

"What?"

"The vest, Sheppard's TAC vest, I need it!" He yanked it from her hands. It had looked ridiculous on her anyway. Rummaging through the various pockets, he pulled out the field dressing, the antiseptic and the Tylenol. "Hold this," he ordered, handing her the flash light. "Keep it pointed at him." He took stock of the items in his own vest and then proceeded to dress the wound with shaking hands.

John watched him through narrowed eyes. It worried Rodney that he read so much hurt in them even though Finalla probably didn't see it. On top of that Sheppard seemed uncharacteristically subdued. Quiet yes, silence to the point of letting Rodney completely take over was wrong on oh so many levels. He turned to Finalla. "I need some water." He handed her some of the water skins strewn all over the wagon.

She took it, gave him back the flash light and then left for the stream that McKay could hear babbling over to his right. He finished his administrations and pressed the Tylenol in Sheppard's hand, it wasn't much, but it would have to do for now. "She uh… should be back with the water soon. I couldn't find our food rations, so we're at the mercy of whatever she finds for us." He narrowed his eyes. "When was the last time you've eaten?"

John dry swallowed the tablets and shook his head. "Can't keep anything down," he said, talking fast as if he was afraid to run out of steam. "Can't take deep breaths, arms and legs are tingling. This damn ore," he wheezed, "has some pretty crappy side effects."

Rodney's eyes grew wide, his mind felt clogged with cotton wool, releasing bits and pieces at a time, so he only now recalled the all important information that the ore's influence on those carrying the Ancient gene was devastating. When John said his extremities were 'tingling', Rodney knew they must hurt like hell. "But… we're nowhere near the mines," he exclaimed softly. "Plus you haven't been in there for more than a few hours."

"The stuff's embedded in the whips… Rodney," Sheppard drawled, some strength seemed to return to his voice.

"Yeah, I know. So?" He eyed the bandaged arm. "That was what? Days ago?"

"Well… yes," John's voice dropped a few degrees. "If you don't count the whip Vex used. Then there was the cell I didn't like much. It was cramped, smelled funny and I couldn't…" his voice trailed away.

A shroud lifted from memory and Rodney saw himself walking passed the holding cells, heard the voice and felt the fear that had made him ignore Sheppard completely.

"…See the sky," John finished quietly, taking shallow breaths.

"God, I'm so sorry." Rodney couldn't keep the self loathing from his voice. Daring to act on his feelings again was hard. "I couldn't fight it," he whispered.

"You couldn't help it."

"But I…"

"No, Rodney!" For the first time since their escape, John sounded adamant. "You saved… my life back there, forget the rest."

McKay frowned at the hurt causing Sheppard to falter mid-sentence. "Side effect?" he asked.

John screwed up his face. "I sort of have a hard time…" He winced, squinting as he fought an inner battle, pain that Rodney now recognized as hidden emotions. John shook his head. "I feel like crap."

Oh that didn't sound good. "So, tugging free all those pesky feelings," he swallowed, far from being comfortable with the subject himself. "What else?"

"Well… I didn't tell them…"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you didn't want to worry the natives, you can tell me."

"Didn't you feel it? Back at the labs, the mines? Sort of a … draining sensation?"

Rodney looked away, everywhere but at John when the truth hit him. He had, in the mining tunnels where minute by minute raw ore faded the lives working down there. If processed ore was having the same effect on Sheppard, coupled with the wound, the infection and the fever? Hard facts lead to a conclusion that blasted his black and white world into all kinds of ugly colors. He stared at Sheppard, fought to still his trembling hands. "Yeah, feeling pretty tired?"

John nodded.

Not wanting to show his dismay, McKay acknowledged the nod, and then quickly moved away.

* * *

Darkness receded to early dawn and mist had risen, dampening the forest floor in wispy moistures strands. McKay paced back and forth the forest clearing. He had just enough sense to turn the flash light off when he'd jumped from the cart a minute ago, all other self-preserving pathways seemed obliterated out of existence.

The blissful disconnected feeling with his body was gone, long overdue sensory input falling all over itself to catch up with him. He couldn't stop trembling, his chest burned, and nausea enflamed his lungs. Right beneath his skin, it felt like every tiny bit of muscle was on fire, infusing him with the trauma of when Sheppard had jumpstarted his world back into life.

John… he would be cold right now. So why didn't he get back in the wagon? Find a blanket, something, anything? Tall shapes rose out of the ground, eerie big trunks standing guard, giving him a false sense of security. He tripped over their roots and halted. God, why couldn't he stop shaking?

He tried to breathe through the anxiety, but that only resulted in a feeling of utter panic painfully cramping his stomach. His mind went in circles, refusing to switch from problem to solution mode and he had to suppress the urge to sit down and curl up. Let the world, colorful or not, solve its own problems.

But he wanted to help, damn it…

Then aside from his physical discomfort, why did it hurt so much? Even the experiences he'd faced in his past, Atlantis, the Wraith, the nearly-dying-on-a-regular-basis thing had never incapacitated him like this. A loud snort startled the hell out of him and he looked up searching the forest. Fog cloaked the shape of a large animal. It snorted again. His muscles unwind when he recognized the sound. _One of our own Banthas, come on, get a grip, McKay!_

He tried to focus on something other than his own demons, which brought him back to Sheppard. Even an idiot could tell that the man hadn't told him the whole story. Looking up at hearing another sound, he watched Finalla return with several skins of water and a sack probably filled with who knew what kind of local greenery she had found. _Oh that's just great. More herbs. Sheppard's going to be thrilled. _His feet moved before he had consciously set off in her direction. With every step, his anger grew until bitter resolve wiped out the fear he'd felt moments ago.

* * *

The scientist wasn't exactly silent in his approach and Finalla heard him coming long before she saw him. She didn't want to admit it, but his brute behavior back in the wagon had intimidated her. One moment he'd been as docile as a Pully beast, the next his tongue had lashed out at her. She hoped this wasn't his normal state of mind.

"Rodney," she started carefully, unsure how to approach him. "How is John doing?"

He had turned on the tube light and stood huffing before her. Blue eyes glowered at her. What startled her most was the fierce intelligence burning behind them. She had noticed it before, but never without the bracelet, never this clearly.

"He's holding back on me," McKay told her bluntly. "Normally, not so much of a problem. Now? Well, let's just say the phrase 'changes don't happen overnight' jumps to mind, so spill it. What happened?"

She flinched at his scrutiny. "He… asked for our help… but Vex… you have to understand that-"

"You turned on him and handed him over to a power hungry lunatic instead, yes, I know that," he snapped. "What I need to know is um… how?"

She blinked at him, taken aback that he had figured that much out.

"I don't want to down play your um… skills, but Sheppard is black ops… specially… specially trained. No offense, here, but there's no way a Gabrielle type girl and her boyfriend can get the drop on him. Seriously, the man has spider senses."

She had no idea what a spider was, but suddenly felt very small. There was an innate concern laced between Rodney's words that _might_ have caused him to break the hold of the purging ring in the first place. She doubted this was the only reason though. But as long as the answer to why he had been able to step between Sheppard and Vex still eluded her, she would not underestimate his strength again. "We… tried not to hurt him."

"Oh really?" he bit. "Raw leather straps wounds? Laser whip? Ring a bell? I take it you also gave him the 'you-might-as-well-give-up-now' pep talk?"

She reeled with the force of his accusations. Not many dared speak to her like this. _Because Vex usually steps in now_, her mind supplied. She felt an unsuspected pang of loss and gave herself a mental slap. Life in the Settlement was tough. She had known this ever since she was a child. And Vex's decision to stay behind should not have come as such a surprise to her.

"_The Settlement is all I have ever known and although it has its weaknesses, becoming an outcast is no option for me," _he had said back in Kethel's study. He had cared enough though, to send her away. _"I will tell them you escaped while I was unconscious. I will be fine, Finalla." _

She pursed her lips in anger, contemplating what to tell McKay. Everything she had done was for the good of her people. The scientist had no right to judge her on her actions, not when McKay knew what it was like to feel the pressure of the Settlement and he still felt it. She was sure of that. "I do not think John would have given in so easily," she started, studying his features, "had you not told him to give up his quest back at the auction, Rodney."

McKay's eyes grew wide, and then they fluttered in every direction but hers. Finalla could not read him, but recognized the pain in his expression back from when he was purged.

"Damn it," he hissed, attention snapping back to her. "You had him tied up for the entire journey since then?"

"Most of it," Finalla nodded, feeling some of her anger drain away. "I'm sorry, Rodney," she said. "Handing John over to Kethel was wrong. I see that now."

"Yeah," he snapped. "For all the good it does. Let's just hope it's not too late, huh." He yanked a water skin out of her hands, turned and stomped off before she could form a reply.

* * *

McKay froze, hands resting on the wood of the wagon just below the opening, He had forgotten about the auction. The scene where he'd told Sheppard to quit_. Because I didn't want him to get hurt, I'm sure he knew that! _

Back then, maybe. But how about when the ore wreaked havoc with John's emotional control, when people kept telling him his quest was a kind but foolish one and those same people started waving a whip around to emphasize their point. _Stop blaming others, McKay!_ His thoughts turned bitter. _How about when I told him it isn't so bad working for the Settlement, when I told Kethel about his weaknesses, and then didn't lift a finger during the whole so called 'evaluation'. Stupid, stupid!_ Because for all Sheppard's bravado, and his entire kick-ass hard iron mask thing, Rodney knew damn well what it took to get the colonel off his game.

Shoving his reluctance aside, he pulled himself into the wagon. John shifted as he lowered himself on his knees. "Sorry it took so long," he said, taking off his jacket. Awkwardly, he draped it over his friend's upper body.

"You okay?" John asked hoarsely.

"Fine… I just needed to um… here." He put down the flash light and loosened the knot on the water skin to press the opening to Sheppard's lips.

John swiped the thing from his hands. "I'm not that far gone, McKay" he drawled and took a swig of the water.

Glad to see Sheppard in stubborn-colonel mode, Rodney stretched his legs to sit down next to him. Feeling the heat radiating of his friend's body, he glanced sideways. "Look, John…" Insecurity crept into his voice as he suddenly longed for that peace and quiet keeping all the pain nicely locked away. "Maybe I should- I mean… I owe you, big time and I… I don't remember much of what it is Kethel had me working on down in the mines, but I do know that the chances of outrunning it are not good." He blinked, giving in to a familiar tug. "If I go back, I might be able to stop-"

"We are not having this conversation, McKay," John interrupted quietly.

Rodney winced, feeling as if he'd just been slapped in the face. One minute he felt guilty as hell over what he had already said and done, and the other he all but told Sheppard that yes, his efforts to save him were appreciated but it was time to return to Kethel now, so goodbye? What the hell was wrong with him? He groaned, which John, judging by his hardening expression, completely misinterpreted.

"We're going back to the gate," Sheppard bit out the words, his glare turning as cold as ice. "You're going to help me lower the shield these people have in place and then I'm going to drag your ass back to Atlantis! Kicking and screaming if necessary… I'm taking you home. You got that?"

Shuddering with the force of Sheppard's words, Rodney felt himself slip into a conditioned response. "Yes, John."

Shock froze Sheppard's features, the preprogrammed reply hitting him way below the belt.

For a second, Rodney couldn't care less. _I was safe there!_ Dark thoughts clouded his mind. _My work was important and you had no right to interfere!_

John fell heavily back against the sideboard, eyes falling shut. "Will you please, stop… doing that?" He sounded exhausted, shaken even.

_What? Stop doing what? _

Sheppard opened his eyes. Fear lacing his normally stoic features shattered the ball of safety Rodney's mind had crawled into. "Damn it!" He squeezed his eyes closed, lowered his head and whimpered. "I didn't… God, Sheppard… I would never…" He looked up, finding to his dismay that John's expression hadn't changed. "Forget I said that, huh?" _Forget whatever it was you picked up from me just now!_

"Sure," Sheppard drawled. "Just… don't do that again."

Rodney nodded wearily, feeling betrayed by his mind's occasional flights into the darkness. He drew a trembling breath, knowing he had to work through this, had to keep control because damn it, if he didn't, he would drag John down with him.

* * *

**Tbc**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's notes: **Thanks for the wonderful reviews. I'm glad to hear you all like the direction this story has taken. Keeping Rodney and John in character while both suffer from afflictions that push them out of character was a bit of a challenge, but I think I managed okay. Here's the next chapter.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Making his way across the fortress's cobbled stone square to the mines, Kethel rubbed a hand over his sore jaw. Behind him Vex couldn't suppress a smile. The councilman's brisk pace betrayed that he was seething at Sheppard's attack and successful escape. Left alone in the study, Vex had shook Kethel back into the land of the living, acting peeved enough for the councilman to believe that he was not happy with Finalla's choices.

He nearly bumped into the man when Kethel halted abruptly and turned around. "The Azunite device McKay has been working on will be ready to purge those deemed unworthy in a few days," he spoke irately. "Still, it doesn't hurt to create a little reassurance." Looking Vex in the eye, he seemed to contemplate his next move.

No telling what the man was thinking, but Vex hoped the councilman didn't doubt his allegiance to the Settlement. He quickly schooled his features, letting the fake pleasure he had shown when he was ordered to kill Sheppard once again appear on his face.

Kethel nodded, seemingly satisfied. "The Lantians will avoid the main roads and therefore bypass Kalrathia to the west," he said thoughtfully. "They will follow the river until it runs dry."

The accurate guess startled Vex. "Or they might abandon the river halfway and traverse the dark desert," he tried, recalling that was where Sheppard had stumbled into them.

"I don't think so," Kethel shook his head. "Finalla knows the hunt can easily catch up with her there. No, she will take the back roads." He took a deep breath. "Ride to Kalrathia and find Arlon. I'm sure you have heard of him."

Vex felt his stomach clench. Arlon was the guy who had taken Moira from them, the leader of the hunt. "We have met," he said, careful not to betray his inner turmoil. "But Kethel, following the river means the hunt will have to leave the 'Pully beasts' behind." _Which will even out their chances, because Finalla will have to abandon the wagon as well, _he thought feeling suddenly proud at her tactical insights.

"That's not to be helped. Use the main road for the first leg of your journey, catch up on lost time, and then cut them off on foot."

"Can we not just wait for them at the Traveling Ring?"

Kethel's face reddened, anger getting the better of him. "Waiting is not my game, Vex," he hissed. The Lantian is a threat to the Settlement. We owe it to our people to get rid of him as soon as possible."

Vex felt trapped. Ignoring Kethel's orders was out of the question, all he could do was find Arlon and stall the hunt as much as he could without drawing suspicion. He noticed Kethel was only talking about Sheppard though. "What about McKay."

The councilman visibly relaxed. "You know as well as I do that eventually, he will return on his own."

Vex nodded. If Arlon was focused on the Lantians, then there was still a chance he could help Finalla escape. Perhaps a hunt wasn't such a bad idea after all. Riding with them would give him the opportunity to see to her safety and that was good enough for him.

* * *

The wagon shook, jerking John awake. Something trembled beside him, not part of the wood and it grew in intensity. Startled into awareness, Sheppard glanced sideways through squinting lids. A glaring light streamed in, revealing his teammate sitting next to him with his knees drawn close to his chest. "McKay?" he whispered.

Rodney shot him a glance. "I'm fine, Colonel, just cold." He stared outside where rays of sunlight pierced through ever smaller gaps of thick clouds rushing in overhead. Wind brushed his face.

The snappy words of comfort caused warning bells to go of in John's head. Normally, McKay would complain about his pain to all and sundry. And he was still hurting, John was sure of that. Aside from the bracelet's lingering effects, there had been the electric shock. He winced at the memory.

McKay threw him an irate look. "And by that I mean that my skin isn't crawling with creepy goose bumps anymore. Chest still aches though. You?"

Mollified by Rodney's answer, John grimaced. "As long as nothing glows blue, fine."

Rodney narrowed his eyes. "Says the man who looks like death warmed over, you still have a fever, Colonel."

John tightened his jaw. "Thank you, Rodney. I noticed that." He shivered, biting back a stabbing pain in his shoulder. "Did you redress this?" He nodded at his arm, which felt like it was covered in herbal glop again.

Rodney stared at the field dressing, then up at John. "After our local culinary experience this morning, Finalla kept harassing me in that annoying Gabriella way of hers about how these herbs could help you fight off the infection. Which if you asked me, seems kind a two faced, since she didn't seem at all reluctant to leave you for dead in the mines a day ago."

"Gabriella?" He flinched inwardly at Rodney's accurate assessment of the situation.

A smile tugged at McKay's lips. "Yeah, you know, from 'Xena, Warrior Princess'?"

"You remember Xena, but not a thing about what went on in that mine?" The wagon shook hard, eliciting a wave of nausea followed by pain rushing up his spine. He fought to stay conscious and felt instantly relieved when their transport jerked to a halt. "What I wouldn't give for inertial dampeners right now," he breezed.

McKay's expression softened. "I don't think you'll be flying in a straight line any time soon." Something clattered on top of the canvas, thick drops of water falling from the graying sky. "Oh great, as if this planet hasn't exposed us to its elements enough."

Finalla loomed up in the back opening. "Now that we have circumvented Kalrathia, the back roads prove difficult to navigate, the soil is becoming too soft for the Pully beasts, especially now that the rains have started."

"Not just a refreshing spring shower, then," John said.

"The rains are not as severe as they use to be, but they can last for a while. We should leave the wagon behind."

Rodney glared at Finalla. "What about the banthas."

"Banthas?"

McKay waved his hands impatiently at the front. "The Pully beasts, can we use them?"

She shook her head. "The mud will be too deep for them, the paths too narrow. Our progress would be too slow. It is wisest to free them."

Rodney's look turned sour. "Mud?"

Finalla nodded. "The water will drench the dry marshes. We will have to cross them to get to the Great Traveling Ring."

"Dry marshes, is she serious?" Rodney said when she'd left.

"She's right," John whispered. "In this terrain the banthas will leave a trail even you could follow in your sleep."

"Oh and I suppose dragging a sick man through the rain is a wise course of action?"

"They will catch up with us if we don't," John spoke harshly.

"So what? At least the mines were warm, at least-" Rodney sucked in his last words, his expression turning into shock. "I… mean… I didn't…"

John breathed sharply through his teeth, trying desperately to ignore his friend's last remark. "Give me my TAC vest, McKay" he bit, "Then go and make sure to bring whatever else we need to survive."

Rodney seemed frozen to the cart bed.

John would have cemented his order with a stern 'go', but a familiar tiredness drained his energy. "Go… Rodney," he whispered, hoping the man would understand that he needed some space. These crappy feelings running amok through his system really started to annoy him.

McKay reached behind him, traded the vest for the jacket John still used as a blanket and left the wagon.

* * *

After trudging through the rain all day, the cave had been a nice find. Despite that they were now miles away from all that glowed blue, John could still feel the ore's tendrils creeping up his spine, feeling its way into places where it had no business being. Lying on the cave's sandy floor next to the fire that Finalla had started up, he shifted a little trying to find a comfortable position, but it was like trying to sleep on a bed of nails. He gritted his teeth against the tingling sensation crawling over his skin, the pins and needles thingy making every movement a painful experience.

They had followed a small river down stream and Sheppard had recognized the waterway as the same one he, Vex and Finalla had followed up stream earlier to reach Kalrathia. The narrow path had wound its way through gullies and along the foot of the riverbank's steep incline. The walk had been a harrowing experience and John had felt his energy resources dwindle with every slip on the wet rocks strewn along the fast rushing water. He'd debated not to stop for the night but was overruled by McKay who simply quit being his support pillar and dropped him on a huge boulder. Leave it up to Rodney to think of his scanner at a time like this. He'd yanked it out of his vest pocket, fiddled with it for five minutes and then had pointed it straight at their current shelter beneath an overhang of bushes.

"How are you feeling, John?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin at Finalla's close proximity. He hadn't heard her approach. Feeling jittery as hell he really didn't need anymore of her so called pep-talks. He fought to keep his expression light as she lowered herself on her heels. "The root glop is helping," he said, managing to lift up on one elbow. "Thank you."

She handed him a bowl filled with her famous herb stew. He ate a few spoonfuls of the stuff but lost his appetite when he found her staring at McKay. Rodney stood just inside the mouth of the cave, pointing what John guessed was the life signs detector out into the dark. "He is still conditioned, John. You must see that."

"He's fine," Sheppard bit, lowering the bowl.

Finalla turned her head to look at him, her face turned sad. "It will get worse, not better."

John looked away.

"I am just giving you a word of caution. Some go through great lengths to return, they have been known to betray those who freed them in the first place."

"And I'm telling you," he snapped at her and swallowed. He didn't think she spoke out of malice seeing as needling out the truth kind of went with her job description but where her resignation had once only tugged at his heartstrings it now cut into his failing mental barriers with ruthless efficiency. He dropped the bowl, unable to dredge up the strength to keep his voice steady. "No."

"Feeding him more of your convoluted words of wisdom?"

Sheppard looked up to find Rodney standing at his feet. The man glared at Finalla, his lips pursed to a thin line. The scientist's sudden protective streak should have bothered John in a never-show-any-weakness-as-team-leader kind of way, but he was too exhausted to care and actually welcomed someone who would keep the nutty natives out of hearing range. His normal easy going self could have easily deflected her, but that particular part of him seemed to have gone AWOL along with his energy.

Finalla picked up the bowl and drew herself up to face McKay. "I just thought he needed to know the truth," she said, her voice sounding steady.

"Oh the truth, huh," McKay crossed his arms. "And what are you madam psychic now? Able to read the future just by looking into the man's eyes? You just had to drive the knife in a little deeper, didn't you?"

Finalla looked confused.

"Rodney," John warned, knowing McKay was about to spill the beans about his emotional condition, and he really, really didn't feel like discussing this now if ever. _Shut up!_

Rodney caught his eyes and swallowed his next words, not a conditioned response, but listening for a change.

Finalla didn't seem to have noticed their silent conversation. "Why did you step between Sheppard and Vex, Rodney?" she asked pointedly. "Back in Kethel's study?"

Rodney turned toward her and rolled his eyes. "Oh I don't know, maybe because I cared?"

"Or was it because Kethel gave you an opening?"

Sheppard's stomach twisted.

Rodney's face fell. "W… what? No."

John's attention snapped back to Rodney, suddenly uncertain as he tried to recall previous events. His memory from right before Vex attacked him was a blur, probably because of the shock therapy he'd received.

"The bracelet allowed you to act, Rodney," Finalla continued mercilessly. "It is the only explanation."

McKay took a step back. "No… it… it didn't."

John frowned. He remembered McKay's detached expression, recalled the surge of loss heightening fears he had thought he'd long since quelled. Some of it must have shown on his face because Rodney's frantic voice snatched him back to the present.

"John, it didn't!"

"What was the last thing Kethel said to you, Rodney?" Finalla spoke quietly.

John looked at her, Kethel's words echoing through his mind_. "What matters to the Settlement is that Sheppard's usefulness has ended, right McKay?"_

Rodney shook his head but Sheppard could tell he had figured it out.

"Unwittingly perhaps, he asked you a question," Finalla explained. "And the purging ring allowed you to answer. You saved him, because the bracelet had picked up stray thoughts that benefited the Settlement, for you _could _have used him. As a test subject. In the labs."

John froze as what she was telling them made way too much sense. He locked eyes with Rodney, noting the streak of terror crossing his friend's features, betraying that at least part of her explanation was true. He felt the proverbial knife in his stomach give another twist. _Damn it, John. What's the matter with you? You either trust him, or you don't. _Well, he knew the answer to that, but before he could utter a sound, Rodney turned around and walked away, vanishing through the opening of the cave.

_Crap! _He sat up and prepared to follow.

"Where are you going?" Finalla squeaked. "You are too sick to move! I will go and-"

"Don't you think you've done enough?!" he cut her off. His patience with her was at an end. First of all, what the hell had been her point? And second now he had to go trudge after McKay and … talk about stuff. _Crap again. _He stood up, wavered on his feet a little and then left her standing by the fire as he carefully made his way out into the dark.

He found McKay standing near the edge of the stream, staring up at the sky. The rain had stopped but thick clouds still hid the stars overhead. "You have to let me go back," Rodney said without looking up, the urgency in his voice hard to miss.

John sank down on a large boulder, shaking his head and for a split second he didn't know what to say. Perhaps Finalla was right and McKay was gone the moment the bracelet closed around his wrist. "If you go back," he ground out hoarsely. "I'm returning with you."

Rodney turned to watch him, the distant look in his eyes retreating to reveal unchecked panic. "I fought to be me. I recall that much," his voice trailed away.

John rubbed sore tendons in his neck but stopped when it enflamed a burning pain in his head. "It's not that I don't trust you, Rodney," he started. "You know I do. Hell, you saved my life back there. It's just…"

"You can't tell whether me spilling my guts here is really me, or the bracelet talking," McKay finished bitterly.

"Well," John grimaced. "I have to admit that this whole situation is freaking me out a little bit."

"I don't blame you," Rodney sighed. "My nerves are fried."

"Yeah, same here," John admitted, startled at his own confession. He shook his head, cursing under his breath.

Rodney gave him a scrutinized look. "You really shouldn't be out here, you know."

A smile tugged at John's lips. "Better here than in there with …" he motioned at the cave, "her."

"Hmm, I see your point. Look, Sheppard. All that prying Madam Psychic did just now? I think it cleared up some of my memories."

John lifted his head in surprise. "The device you've been working on?"

Rodney nodded. "I remember a huge chamber located deep into the mines next to the processing labs. There was a massive crystal growing right out of the ground and into the rock ceiling overhead." He didn't seem to see Sheppard anymore. "You should have seen it. This thing was easily as wide as the cave over there and it glowed intensely. Kethel had the main underground laboratory built around it in an effort to hone its properties."

"Let me guess," John interrupted. "He wants to use the thing to create a purging field of some sort." He shifted on the rock in an effort to stay focused. "So, we're talking wide enough to include the gate?"

He knew his day just got worse when McKay shook his head. "Think bigger."

"Settlement wide?" he opted cautiously.

McKay widened his arms. "The crystal is large enough to use the whole mountain range as its transmitter." The admiration in his voice rattled John. It was nothing new that Rodney couldn't withstand a scientific challenge, but sounding this gleeful for work he'd done under duress, without a snide or acidic remark, seemed off. "It will latch onto other ore riddled surfaces and work its way out from there, until it covers the entire planet."

John stared up at him. "Planet-wide? That's crazy. What the hell kind of society will that leave?"

Rodney seemed to snap out of his reverie as he looked down on him. "Kethel… Kethel isn't as stupid as he looks," he frowned, obviously trying to recall the details of the device. "The crystal's field strength is only at half the capacity needed to have a purging effect. It took them years to learn how to generate a stronger field. When I came along they knew how to create a localized purging effect but they didn't have the means to control the time and place." He shrugged. "Piece of cake, really."

"You build them a computer?" John felt his eyebrows rise up a notch.

"Well, that goes without saying. I mean, you can't expect a bunch of Roman Xena's to do the calculations from the top of their head. Although I have to admit that some of their scientists-"

"Rodney!"

"I built them locator beacons." McKay looked guilty, all admiration gone from his voice. "They're small compared to the crystal, and portable. Carry those to where you want to strengthen the field, say the area around the Stargate and-"

"And everyone in that sector will get purged," he finished, taking in a sharp breath.

Rodney nodded. "Some beacons are even more selective than that. I… I designed some of them to latch on to what Kethel describes as miscellaneous thought patterns, assessors, or those with the Ancient gene. Once purged, the low level field is enough to keep them in check, even if they leave the range of the locator beacon."

Sheppard's eyes widened. He felt a stab of hurt at Rodney having given Kethel the means search them out. "Oh crap."

"John, I'm sorry, I didn't…"

"Yeah, I know," he said, forcing down the angry retort teetering on his lips.

Rubbing sweaty hands together, Rodney seemed to relax a little. "That's why I have to go back. I have to stop him. Destroy the main crystal or at least the computer I built."

Sheppard drew himself up even as his stomach decided to remain where it was. A wave of nausea hit him, but he pushed through the discomfort. "Rodney, they will purge you the moment they spot you!" McKay looked away. "Even if you do manage to get in, getting out again will become a real problem!"

Rodney tightened his jaw, anger boiling beneath stormy blue eyes as he met John's eyes. "I have to try! If I don't…"

"No! What we have to try is get to the gate before our pursuers locate us and activate the beacon. Wait." He suddenly realized something. "Tell me they can't track us with that beacon thing."

Rodney shook his head. "After activating the main field, the locators need a while to initialize."

John waved at him. "Define 'a while'."

His friend's hands shook and he clasped them together. "You… We…" He looked down. "We won't make it."

"No, no none of that." _Shit! He's struggling again._ In an effort to break through to him John raised his voice. "Rodney, define 'a while!"

Rodney stared at him, his face a mask of pain as he fought a conditioned response and bit out a statement instead. "It. doesn't. matter." His eyes stood bright and clear, no detached expression, just a genuine worry in his voice. "Don't you get it? The locator beacons are not the problem here."

John chewed his lip, knowing he was unusually slow on the uptake.

McKay frowned, his concern seeming to deepen. "I told you the planet-wide field is harmless to any Eirulan, but John… to you... We're too close to the mountain."

"The mountain," Sheppard repeated still not sure where Rodney was going with this.

Rodney looked anxious as he snapped another clarification. "Yes, with the mother of all crystals ready to be activated?"

John breathed sharply through his teeth. "The crystal," he muttered dismayed.

"It's basically a massive chunk of ore. Think… Think 'active laser whip' and then multiply its effects by a dozen."

Which meant he was really, really screwed. "Rodney, I…" He shook his head and plunked down on the boulder again. He hated to sound so insecure but couldn't quell the anxiety raking at his emotional control. "How much time do I have?"

"A day… Maybe two before Kethel activates the crystal."

Two days should be enough time to get back to the gate. He sucked in a breath. A night's sleep was a luxury they could no longer afford. "We need to get moving."

* * *

**Tbc**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Author's notes: **__You all deserve cookies for your thoughts and insights on this story. Thanks! Among other things, they make me check out the ending. Right, on with it. John and Rodney are not out of the woods by a long shot. In fact they only seem to get more lost…_

**

* * *

****Chapter 12**

Finding it hard to keep awake, John stared at their surroundings: a muddy plain strewn with rocks and topped with the occasional bush and tree. Black mud stuck to his boots, the ground soaking wet from last night's rain. A ray of light pierced the receding cloud cover overhead, signaling a new day.

"They call this the _dry_ marshes?" McKay complained, shrugging to shift John's weight. He wrinkled his nose at the foul smell of rotting plants.

Sheppard grimaced. Despite Rodney's body heat, he couldn't stop shivering and welcomed the sun's warmth.

"Even though the river has widened considerably," Finalla explained from behind them. John looked over his shoulder as she gestured at the waterway over to their right. "It is not as all encompassing as it was during the dawn of the Settlement."

"I get it," McKay muttered. "Severe weather changes, the river withdrew, swamp's gone, leaving a humongous mud bath for us to play around in." He moved carefully, trying to stick to what Finalla had designated as a path.

To be honest, John couldn't see the difference between the track and the rest of the muddy plain.

"Sheppard," Rodney suddenly addressed him. "Can you handle walking on your own for a moment? I need to check something."

"Sure," he drawled. "And I appreciate the warning." It had been no more than an hour ago that Finalla had signaled them to stop for a bite to eat and McKay had dropped him like a stone.

"You're welcome and again, I'm sorry. I just thought that… Well, you told me you felt better!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah… I lied, okay?" John withdrew his arm from Rodney's shoulder, instantly regretting he'd done so when his legs cramped. Finalla caught his arm just in time to keep him from toppling over. She released him when he regained his balance, knowing full well he didn't appreciate her touch.

"Be nice to her, Sheppard," Rodney said, fishing out his life signs detector. "She's only trying to help."

"Just… Do what you're supposed to do here, McKay!" he retorted irately. His energy reserves had been shot to hell and he was in no mood to play nice. On the upside, the herbal glob had done a better job than any antiseptic Sheppard had ever known and his fever was down.

McKay looked up from the detector's screen. "Hmpf, not much life around here, is there?"

"The larger beasts populating this area must have fled when they heard us coming," Finalla supplied sweetly.

Rodney whipped around. "Oh, har har. For your information this means we're safe for now. How much further do we have to go?"

"In another day's walk, the river will turn shallow and run dry." Finalla motioned ahead of her. "We can then follow its bed toward the Great Traveling Ring."

"We have to be careful not to run into Kethel though," John warned. "I'm sure he'll be waiting for us at the gate."

Finalla shook her head. "That is not his style. It is more likely that he has sent out a hunting party to track us down, on foot if necessary."

Rodney's face drew tight.

John expected an acerbic retort, but all he got was McKay waiting for him to catch up. He would have rejected the help, but his body chose that moment to decide up was down and he swayed with a sense of vertigo. A moment later he felt solid warmth supporting him. John noticed the man's sweaty palms again. "You okay?" he whispered.

"You're asking me?" Rodney shook his head. "How much longer can you hold on? And don't lie to me this time," he bit.

Aching all over, as if he'd been sparring with Ronon, John hesitated to answer. His breathing felt labored and then there was the geyser of emotions he barely managed to keep at bay, not to mention the pounding headache. Moving away from the mountains provided some relief, but didn't alleviate the heavy sensation of what felt like massive blood loss and every step had become a struggle. This planet truly sucked. "As long as Kethel doesn't activate the crystal," he replied, glancing sideways at his friend. "I can make it to the gate."

"Too bad the ore is so destructive on the Ancient gene," McKay's eyes had that glazed expression again. "If I had been able to run tests on you, then maybe…"

"Are you serious?" John wheezed, too tired to debate him on the subject anymore.

Rodney blinked and his features crumbled. "God… No… I'm not. I can't seem to…" He stared ahead. "Finalla was right. I feel… fractured. Part of me still wants to go back." He gritted his teeth and looked John in the eye. "You can't trust me."

"That's still my choice to make, McKay," Sheppard whispered.

Rodney's attention grew inward. "You have no idea how strong the pull of the Settlement is," he said softly. "I've never felt safer, more… fulfilled as I worked on that device." The damn admiration was back and McKay's flattened tone told John he'd zoned out again. "Sure, if it works, it will mess with your gene. But seriously, that's a small price to pay, compared to the good the Azunite crystal will do for Eirulan. It will…"

Sheppard clenched his fists, battling a rush of fear at how easy McKay's words bypassed his defenses. "It will kill me, Rodney," he spoke harshly, unable to help the sarcasm bubbling from his mouth. "And don't tell me you hadn't figured that out yet."

Rodney looked at him as if he couldn't care less and this time did release him without warning to stomp away. John wavered on his feet, feeling the life drain out of him. He fought to get air into his lungs, his muscles screaming at him to lie down. Gasping, he refused to give in, mainly because he knew he wouldn't wake up again.

Ahead of him Rodney turned around, his face a mask of shocked expression. John was too busy trying to regain control over his airways to keep the hurt off his face. McKay deflated, sat down heavily on a dead tree stump and buried his face in hands.

"I think," John spoke hoarsely to Finalla. He scraped his throat. "I think we'll take a five minute break here."

* * *

McKay tightened his grip on John's waist. He didn't really see the dots on the life signs detector, just held the thing up in his free hand to focus on something other than the cruel act he'd just performed on Sheppard. The muddy terrain had hardened with more rocks and boulders littering the area. The river to their right, although decreased in width, would still take a few minutes to cross.

John's breathing sounded labored and Rodney was sure only sheer will power kept the man going. Worried, he noticed the shivering had increased. He shrugged, trying to alleviate the pressure on his arm and shoulder. They ached from dragging the colonel across rugged terrain but he managed to keep his complains at bay. His fingers clenched sweat soaked fabric and beneath that he felt John's rapidly cooling skin. "You're…" he swallowed, worriedly. "You're getting cold."

Sheppard gave a curt nod. "Yeah, temp's dropping," he muttered under his breath. "Just keep moving, McKay."

Rodney figured Sheppard didn't mean the weather, since it was actually getting warmer. "That means the fever's gone. It's a good thing, right?" he said in an effort to cheer himself up.

"Sure," John spoke softly.

_Sure? _Rodney felt his heart pick up the pace, thumping against the inside of his chest. _Oh that sounds very, very bad. _Sheppard just didn't do the show of weakness anti heroic thing; he was stoic like that, difficult to read unless you knew where to look.

_Unless you know how to get to him, _Rodney thought bitter. _Like, pulling the rug from under him with that 'you-die-so-what?' speech and then offer your help again afterwards as if nothing had happened. And he let me! How's that for loyalty, McKay. _He gripped the man a little tighter to keep him from slipping and Sheppard released a soft moan. "Sorry," he whispered, loosening his hold.

"No, It's not… that," John breathed. "It's just…"

"Your body is no longer capable of keeping you warm, John," Finalla pitched in from behind them.

John winced. "That."

"Hypothermic? Why are you getting hypothermic? It's not like we're freezing here." His face fell. "This has something to do with the energy drain, hasn't it?" he hissed, making sure Finalla didn't hear him.

"Could be," Sheppard said quietly.

A surge of panic squeezed Rodney's insides. His hand started to shake, blurring the detector's dots in front of him as his thoughts tried to settle into easy speech patterns that kept running away from him. Worse, he felt really good when his mind went off on its own… really, really good.

"Rodney," a hoarse whisper sounded beside him.

He didn't know what frightened him more, the relapses or his capability to push Sheppard over the edge every time he lost control. He was terrified that the next time it happened, he'd give one shove too many and wouldn't even see it coming.

"Rodney! Damn it! Listen to me!"

He tried to focus on that voice, used it to drown out the call of the Settlement that kept trying to control him. He tripped, gritted his teeth and staggered to a halt, because if he didn't, he would turn all evil and rip into weakened defenses of a man who could seriously use a break right now. He blinked, suddenly feeling like himself again.

_Hah!_ _See, what a little will power can accomplish? _

Feeling triumphant at having at least won this mental battle, he gave an unmanly squeak when Sheppard suddenly caught his wrist in a vice-like grip. "Ow, hey!" But whatever he was going to say died on his lips when he noticed what John was looking at. Sheppard lifted his head, his eyes carrying a myriad of emotions. Then his face hardened and he let go.

Rodney's throat closed with horrifying dread, he looked down at the life signs detector and froze, feeling the blood rush from his face.

They were surrounded by white dots.

He had led them straight into the lions den of the hunting party.

* * *

Sheppard seized onto Rodney's TAC vest and shoved him mercilessly into the cover of some boulders and bushes. Furious and worried as hell, he clenched his fists but composed himself enough to do no more than yank the life signs detector out of McKay's hands and study the motionless dots sprinkled out in a horseshow-shaped pattern across the small screen. _Shit! Why the hell hadn't Rodney alerted them? I shouldn't have trusted him to-_

Taking deep breaths, John squeezed his eyes shut and refrained from talking. _This isn't you, McKay. Damn it. _

"I was just… I wasn't paying attention."

John looked up at his friend's terrified voice.

"Listen, for all we know these are those large beasts Finalla talked about."

"The beasts of the marshes do not hunt as a pack," Finalla said quietly. "These are probably Arlon's men, lying in wait for us."

A fleeting look of terror crossed Rodney's face, then just as when the hunt had first slapped the bracelet on his wrist, his eyes seemed to drain. John swallowed, suddenly scared shitless at the hollowed look McKay shot him."Rodney-" he tried, but the man didn't seem to hear him.

"Okay… so… So we wait until they're gone and then work our way around," Rodney spoke quickly. For a fleeting second Sheppard caught a struggle in his eyes, but then his face turned harsh and unrelenting. "No big deal, right?"

John looked at him, taken aback. _You know damn well that I don't have that kind of time, Rodney! _Fury drained from his system, leaving him feeling strangely vulnerable.

McKay crossed his arms. "Well?"

"I uh…" He knew he was stammering, but couldn't find his voice to point out the consequences this plan entailed. If he didn't authorize this course of action, McKay could bolt here and now. He felt trapped, but refused to give up on his friend. He took a deep breath, and then nodded because he really didn't have much of a choice here. "Right, just make sure to keep quiet."

* * *

Finalla felt a pang of worry as she took in John's sweat drenched face. The sun touched the horizon, bathing the world in warm colors of summer heat. "Why did you agree to this plan?" She spoke softly when besides them the scientist's regular indrawn of breath told her he had fallen asleep. She lowered herself on her haunches in the shadow of a huge boulder, Sheppard sitting pressed against the bare rock.

Hazel eyes seemed to pierce right through her.

"Despite our efforts to stay concealed, your friend will make sure to draw the hunt's attention."

John grimaced. "I know," he said, sounding irritated.

Suddenly, she found herself inexplicably sad. He had fought so hard, had given so much of himself. In these last few days, his stubborn perseverance had touched her to the point of reassessing her own convictions. At moments, she had even dared to believe that it was possible to save his friend.

Well aware that his tiredness was the only reason he didn't pull back, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around his trembling hand. She nodded at McKay. "He gave me quite a mouthful about how Vex and I… how I treated you," she smiled a little, hoping to draw him out. "I told Rodney I was sorry and I am. I truly am, John."

He nodded stiffly.

She couldn't tell what he was thinking, but his anguished expression echoed with a feeling of loss inside her. She thought of the Settlement, of her people, and of Vex, all of whom she had to leave behind. "You tried your best," she consoled more for her own benefit than for John's. "That's all anyone can do."

"I'm not done trying yet," he spoke in a low voice.

She tensed and frowned, confused. "He will betray us," she hissed. "Taking him with us from now on would be foolhardy."

John tightened his lips, not saying anything as he opened some of the pockets of the black battle vest he was wearing. He pulled out the small device McKay had been holding, watched the screen for a moment and then pushed himself on his feet.

"What are you doing?" She gasped. To alleviate his discomfort, she had given him the last of the Valerian root to chew on. Uncut, the herb had been known to ease the worst of the muscle cramps. However, strength only temporary returned and when given too much of the root, the heart could overtax itself and stop. That is why she only offered it as a last resort. Standing up and moving around so soon after having eaten the drug could be dangerous.

"Get him to the gate, Finalla," he ordered as he checked other pockets. "And make sure he lowers the shield and then uses this."

She caught what looked like a small transmitting device and stared at it with incomprehension, then looked up, confused, "B… But what about you?"

His expression turned grim.

Concerned, she stood up to meet his eyes but when McKay stirred, she looked down. John followed her gaze, his face turning into a picture of quiet strength warring with what looked like resignation. Suddenly, she fathomed the depth of his decision and froze. "You are going to draw them away," she gasped.

He snapped his head up as if caught with his hand in a sweet stick pot. "I have to," he said softly.

They were just three words, a single short sentence that captured the essence of his being. McKay had been right to be so worried. Even with all John had told her, and all what happened at Windstone, she had not seen how close he had come to his breaking point. _And even now, he will not give up. _A sob worked its way up her throat and her attention drifted to the sleeping figure on the ground.

When she looked up again, John was gone.

* * *

**Tbc**

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_**A/N: **__Normally I don't do end of chapter author's notes, but I made an exception in this case since there's some good and some bad news. __Okay, the good news is that of course John was never going to give up! And to all you Rodney fans, he is still fighting. That counts for something. __The bad news is that you're going to have to wait a few days for the next chapter. I'm putting in a new floor in my computer room so I'm going off line at least until Thursday. I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible because I don't like to leave you hanging. In the mean time thanks for all the reviews, alerting and faving. You made my summer a happy one!_

_Kreek _


	13. Chapter 13

_**Author's note: **__well, the flooring went in ridiculously fast. Mind you, I'm glad I'm back on line. It took me half a day to put the computer back in place and figure out where all the wiring was suppose to go. Then I pressed the on-button and everything was working. YAY! Ahem… back to the story. The boys are really struggling now… _

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**Chapter 13**

Breathing heavily, John eyed the life signs detector and paused in his headlong run through dry bushes and yellowed reeds to gain his bearings. The horse shoe shaped dots had clustered into a circle ahead of him, accumulating in a clutter of white on the screen. The various members of the hunt had probably gathered for the night. If he managed to successfully lure them away, there was still a chance he could double back and make it to the gate.

Ignoring his pounding headache, he lowered himself and moved quietly, careful not to step on any dead twigs or branches. The sun still provided enough light to make out the grasses, bushes, and copses of skeleton trees claiming the grounds around him. He tasted the dry breeze as it rustled brittle leaves, the air had grown warm and rivulets of sweat pored down his back. Straining to listen, he heard voices on the wind, or was that his own blood rushing in his ears?

He tried not to think about the time he had left. The bitter root he'd eaten relieved him of the worst pain and stomach cramps, but didn't do squat for his headache or the energy drain. Judging from what Finalla had told him he figured he didn't have long before the drug wore off. On top of that, Kethel could activate the main crystal any second now, so he needed to hurry.

Not knowing exactly where the enemy was, he crouched as low as possible as he crept closer to the voices. Reeds whipped his face, their sharp edges cutting into his cold skin. Gritting his teeth he cursed the Ancients for not leaving a note in their database listing the emotional rollercoaster ride the Azunite ore provided followed by a deep freeze experience no matter what the ambient temperature was like.

Fighting the pull of sleep, he raised a shaking hand to watch the detector again. He was close. Laughter reached his ears. Creeping forward, he moved to hide behind a couple of waist-high bushes bordering a small rock strewn terrain and peeked through the branches to pick out Arlon sitting on the opposite side of the clearing. Frowning, he also noticed Vex standing among the three men surrounding their leader. Dressed in fine leather as opposed to the heavy cloaks they had worn when he'd first encountered them, the members of the hunt looked pretty relaxed. Closer to his position, two females were sitting on a boulder, talking among themselves while they scooped something out of a bowl. Wrinkling his nose at the smell wafting in his direction, John was willing to bet a month's pay that their meal consisted of herbal stew.

"I cannot believe we are going through all this trouble to catch a purged scientist," one of the women, the smaller one with spiky, short hair stated to her companion. "Eventually, they always return to the Settlement, so why bother?"

"Didn't Arlon tell you?" the lanky, knotty-haired one spoke between two spoonfuls of food. "It's not the scientist that poses the threat. It's the soldier that was with him. He's a rogue element, too strong willed to ever abide by the will of the Settlement."

John bit his lip. He didn't like the sound of this. If they felt that threatened by him, they would use every resource available to keep him from escaping. On the upside, their fanatic attitude would make it easier to draw them away from McKay.

Spiky furrowed her brow. "Yes. I remember him from one of our previous hunts. Feisty," she sounded with admiration. "We had to use the fire flash."

Studying their tight beige attire, John quickly assessed that it didn't leave much room to conceal the grip of a laser whip. The same could be said about Ronon however, who had turned out to be a walking weapon arsenal. And then there were Vex and Arlon who he knew for a fact, both carried a whip.

Knotty sighed. "Too bad we have to finish him off. Arlon should never have left him alive." They ate, laughed and talked about how other Eirulans would come and join the hunt if they would fail to find the Lantian soldier.

John grimaced, knowing he couldn't handle a larger group of people hunting him down. He looked over his shoulder, surveying the alien landscape. He needed to make his move, now.

"So? Why kill him?" Spiky said. "I hear the purged ones are greatly interested in his ability to feel the ore's power. We could take him back to the mines and have some fun with him ourselves along the way."

_All right. That's it! _He showed himself before their fantasies could get away from them.

Their mouths dropped.

John smirked and started to run.

* * *

Rodney's dreams had been nightmarish, full of screaming creatures trying to pierce metal tentacles into his abdomen, his chest, his skull. He lashed out at them, yelled at the top of his lungs for them to stay away but they gained ground and laughed, until suddenly all fell silent, refocusing their attention on a black clad figure with messy hair.

John grabbed his shoulder but Rodney wrenched free and turned, his lips twisting in a cruel smile. Then with a hard shove that caught the colonel off guard, he pushed Sheppard backwards, into the bulk of the deadly creatures. He watched, detached as the living constructs of hell started to rip his friend apart.

And Rodney screamed.

Waking up, he whimpered, sat up and pressed his palms into his eyes. Memories flooded to the forefront of his mind, of words that he couldn't have said, of actions he sure as hell had never performed.

_Time... _

John was running out of time, and Rodney had … No, no, no, the person that was not him had not given a damn. _Wait till nightfall, wait till nightfall, _the memory whispered to him. With the dream fresh in his mind, he looked up in bewilderment, recalling John's piercing gaze and the flash of betrayal._ Oh God… tell me that didn't actually happen. _

In the light of the setting sun he noticed Finalla watching him.

The rest of their little hideout was empty.

Pain ripped into him as strands from a conversation entered his mind, something about Sheppard going to act as a decoy. They thought he'd slept, but he just hadn't been able to open his eyes as he'd fought to keep himself together. And then he had slept… He felt his blood run cold."Tell me you stopped him," he breathed.

"He wouldn't let me," she whispered.

Guilt stemmed his breathing. He had let him go. He'd let John go and hadn't even noticed. Finalla had been right, about everything. The bracelet had done so much more than perform a sick little coercion act. It had implanted thoughts, seeded random nudges for the good of the settlement that urged him to come 'home' back to Kethel who would keep him safe. They had surfaced and enticed him, and he'd listened. Even now, he listened.

But the pain inside wasn't so easily persuaded. It battled the rising fear, tagged onto his runaway mind and kept him grounded in the here and now. Even as insubstantial fingers slipped from the edge, he refused to let the will of the Settlement take over.

* * *

Okay, so maybe this wasn't one of his better ideas. Heaving, John ran through a thicket of bushes, keeping his head low, for all the good it would do. Behind him, the snapping of twigs and yelling of voices told him Arlon and his men were closing in. Exhausted, he ran between some small trees, willing his legs to move. He felt his heart thump in his chest, felt coldness sapping his strength, and normally he would have ditched these men a long time ago.

They weren't carrying long range weapons. They were on foot and only used to deal with frightened civilians, so taking them out one by one should have been a piece of cake. Except he couldn't seem to muster the stealth he needed to outwit them. His shirt clung to his back as he paused to gain his bearings. A wave of nausea hit him and he buckled over, took a few deep breaths and then squinted into the deep glow of the setting sun.

He couldn't give in. Not now. He hadn't drawn them far enough away yet.

Hearing a noise behind him, he started running again in a direction that hopefully would lead him back to the gate, only to be thwarted by Knotty and Spiky who suddenly loomed up in front of him. He hadn't heard them, hadn't known they were there, which seriously sucked and spoke volumes of how cotton-clouded his senses had become. Cursing he took a ninety degrees turn to plunge into a vast border of head-high reeds.

Pushing his way through the thick cluster of thin stems, he heard the girls yelling at their companions to cut him off. A massive cracking sound coming from all around signaled the men's chase through the tall grass-like plants. To his left and right, laser whips flared into life.

_Crap,_ he wasn't going to make it.

* * *

Rodney stared at the cups and bowls lying forgotten on the ground. His feet felt like lead as he took in the pile of dead wood splattered by the last rays of sunlight. The day's warmth rose from the rock-littered soil, dispersing in the cooling breeze.

"They left in a hurry," Finalla said softly behind him, surveying the hunt's camp site.

Walking toward the wood pile, Rodney glanced sideways but didn't deem her remark worthy of turning fully toward her. Even the lowest grunt could tell that whoever had left hadn't finished starting what looked like a campfire. "We can still catch up," he bit at her.

"Vex has the tracking skills, Rodney. Not me," she sounded a little small, afraid even. "And you?" She stepped closer, eying toppled over mugs, their contents probably spilled into the thirsty sand.

He lifted his head, wanting her to shut up. "I might," he spoke more coolly than he had intended. "Just… wait a second." John had taken the life signs detector, but not his scanner. With a few minor adjustments tried to pick up the dot of a subcutaneous transmitter. The display stayed empty. "Damn it."

"It is not working?"

"Probably because your boyfriend succeeded in frying our transmitters with that whip of his," he hissed at her, fear rolling over him in waves. "If that's the case then I can't find him." He felt his heart beat frantically in his chest and desperately started fiddling with the scanner's settings. He needed a failsafe… An icy coldness stole into his veins and he suddenly felt the need to close his eyes against the overwhelming pressure trying to subjugate him. He panicked. No… He couldn't… just forget about… Sheppard.

_Forget about Sheppard!_

He whimpered at the demanding order to wait here for the hunt to return, so he could… "No, no, no," he whispered, pressing the ball of his hands into his eyes again.

_Damn it. _Why couldn't he fight this? He clasped his wrist, surprised to not feel the cold metal of the bracelet. Then why… what the hell had changed? He looked up and got his answer. For all of his warnings meant for Sheppard, he had failed to see the danger a low level purging field could pose to a once conditioned mind.

Above him, the sky had turned a sickly green.

"What? What is that?" Finalla asked, frightened.

"The field," he breathed.

"The device Kethel had you working on?"

He nodded, turning toward her. "Finalla," he sounded desperate, but didn't care. "Without a locator beacon, the field won't affect you," he hissed quickly, trying to get his thoughts across before his mind abandoned him. "But Sheppard…" He cringed, every fiber of his being suddenly alive with pain. Oh yes. The purging field worked beautifully, tried to drive all mention of John from his mind. "Sheppard," he gritted, grabbing her tunic. "The ore's emissions running the field will kill him."

"You know this for certain? For all we know he-"

"I can't leave him behind," he interrupted her harshly.

"He did it to get you home, Rodney." Her features hardened. "He's a soldier and thus knew he was expendable. If you care so much, perhaps you should honor his wish."

Rodney clenched his fists. "He's not," he spat, struggling against chains binding his free will. "Expendable." _Damn it. What the hell did John say to her? Oh hey… forget about me, it's McKay you'll want to save? _He swallowed as something inside him shouted that yes, to the Settlement, Rodney was more important than John could ever be. "Listen," he urged. He didn't have time to debate her on this. "You have to leave while you still can."

"Not without you," she said, raising his chin.

Rodney rolled his eyes, squeezing the fabric of her tunic. "You don't get it, do you?" he emphasized every word. "As much as it galls me to say this," he waved his arm the way they had come from. "In a minute all I'll want to do is head back to Kethel! You have to get to the Gate! You're an assessor. The scientists in charge of the barrier will let you lower it." He fiddled with the settings of the GDO he'd taken from Finalla earlier and pressed in his code. "This will make sure Atlantis lowers the shield on their end." He squinted, losing his grip on reality. "Make them listen… Don't… Don't let Teyla come. Tell Ronon. They won't be able to stop him," he hissed.

She stared at him, looking shocked.

"God," he leaned over, hands resting on his knees as he breathed heavily through coercing tentacles of pain. Tears stung his eyes. He couldn't hang on. "Go!" He managed to grind out. "Just go."

She nodded, backed away and he lost sight of her.

"Go… before I make you stay," he whispered.

* * *

**Tbc**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Author's note: **__thanks for all the marvelous reviews! Now, I'm actually going to fire a warning here. Things get (if that's even possible) more intense. For all you Shepwhumpaholics, I got all depressed pushing him this far, but that's the way this scene demanded to be written. Hope it doesn't have the same effect on you. Just keep in mind that I'm all for happy(ish) endings…_

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* * *

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**Chapter 14**

Tiredness overwhelmed him, made the world spin as he stumbled ahead through thinning reeds, his feet getting wet when the ground sloped off. Fighting despair cloaking him like a well worn blanket, he took a deep breath against the cold, and then dove into the river. To his surprise the water felt warm and soothing. Sore muscles unwound, making him feel all the more exhausted.

Looking over his shoulder, he noticed his pursuers fanning out to find another way across. Guess he should count himself lucky that apparently, they couldn't swim. A groan escaped his lips when he crawled out onto the bank on the other side. Nausea spun his senses, pressed against the inside of his skull and tried to find its way out through his throat. Dragging himself forward into a copse of bushes, he managed to hold down the rising sickness until finally the roaring in his ears subsided. To his dismay he heard people moving through the water with swift strokes.

_Guess they can swim after all. Damn. _

They were close.

Way too close.

He should move…

Shivering uncontrollably, he felt like he'd gone another round with a laser whip, cold squeezing his heart and lungs until it became an effort just to keep air inside. His limbs wouldn't cooperate, his vision narrowed and the whole world felt out of whack. This was more than the muscle relaxant herb having run its course. He managed to roll on his back to gaze up at the darkening sky. The last vestiges of blue retreating for the night had taken on a greenish tint that hadn't been there before.

Kethel had turned on the field.

That's why he felt so God damn paralyzed.

Battling a rising fear, he clenched his fists and attempted to back away from the splashing sounds and footsteps approaching him. Cramps shot through his entire body, causing him to cry out and halt his movement. Breathing hard and leaning on one elbow, he glared at the shadows crashing through the underbrush. They merged into one until Vex loomed over him. Finalla's former lover had never been the merciful kind so he didn't expect the man to start now.

Panting, John pulled his gaze away, briefly closing his eyes as exhaustion started to drag him under.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, Sheppard," Vex said, genuinely sounding sorrowful.

"Yeah," John spoke under his breath. "Sure you are." He reached inside his shirt.

"Hunting you down was the only way to draw their attention away from Finalla," Vex continued explaining. His voice seemed to trail away, and then turned hard. "The others should be here soon."

John would have given a 'go-to-hell' retort, but his anger got flooded in the pain tearing him apart and it was all he could do to keep breathing. He winced, feeling the tight control he had over his feelings slackening and knew it was over. Looking up he met the man's harsh eyes. "Do me a favor, huh?" he whispered, not pretending to hide the weakness in his voice.

Vex looked down in surprise, at the objects in John's hand.

"Get these to McKay," John fought to keep his voice steady. "It's a way for him to know that I've…"

Reluctantly, the man took the dog tags and studied them. Gauging the danger they could pose, he stared at John for a while. Vex looked tempted to throw them away, but then he nodded in understanding.

John gave a brief nod of relief. Hearing Vex's companions coming, he allowed his head to fall back in the mud of the riverbank. He watched the men surrounding him, taking away his view of the sky. He still fought, to breathe, to live, to stay conscious even as he recognized Arlon who looked down on him in sheer hatred.

Arlon didn't need to explain his actions, his intent clear in his eyes. He ordered the others to back off.

John clenched his teeth, catching the huntsman's hard gaze.

Wordlessly Arlon activated the whip but refrained from hitting him, just watched, letting the exposure to the active ore do its job

John started to shudder and gasp for breath, his chest constricting as his limbs went numb. He felt sad, anger, despair, bitter, and enraged all at the same time. Through a haze of pain he heard a harshly shouted command, saw Arlon yanking something from Vex's hand and flip a switch. The second whip, even though it never touched him, shattered what was left of his barriers.

Emptiness exploded inside, whitened his vision. He tried to force down the overwhelming hollowed feeling, but it only grew until it pushed him inside out, pierced his skin, his skull, and his very being with laser light accuracy. Twisting on the ground, he couldn't scream, could only breathe frantically through the pain, his will shriveling until he was spent. His breathing slowed and the sky faded as the last of his energy drained away.

* * *

A wave of sadness rushed him before the unfounded feeling retreated like water from a shore. Rodney flinched, blinked and looked up to find himself on the outskirts of the trading town where he and Sheppard… where he had sighted the first bracelet. Not a purging one, but a ring of repulse, capable of driving off the Wraith. The repulse bracelets were rare and he felt a swell of pride at having made sure that soon enough scientists would be available to create them.

He staggered onwards until he heard Arlon's voice behind him, the need to go with him so strong it drove all other thoughts from his mind. In the light of predawn he turned to face his pursuers. _Only two… So, why am I running away from them? I could have used their help, damn it!_

"Doctor McKay!" The man he recognized as Arlon had obviously been running to catch up. As the huntsman neared, his hand had drifted to the whip, his eyes stood sharp. "You're here all by yourself?"

Rodney looked from Arlon to his companion. Vex studied him with a peculiar expression on his face. "I…" Acknowledgement teetered on his lips. There was that pain again, holding back his answer. _Why the hell have I been walking on my own through the desert all night? To get to the Traveling Ring? No, that wasn't it. _He lifted out a small rectangular device from his inside pocket. "I needed to get to a more populated area," he whispered.

"What is that?"

Rodney looked up at Arlon's suspicious question. "It's a locator beacon." He pointed at the greenish sky. "Once turned on, it will strengthen the purging field enough to purge anyone in range, well… anyone hiding their true potential."

"Are you telling us," the huntsman sounded incredulously. "That you carried that thing with you all along?"

Rodney nodded. "Getting to the trading town wouldn't have been as easy if you hadn't managed to split us up," he conceded, the truth momentarily blinding the sadness that refused to go away.

Vex stepped in. "Did Sheppard know you had this?"

"John? No, I…" For a second his thoughts swirled in emptiness, causing him to grope frantically for the safety of the Settlement. "I need to get to the center of town," he spoke hoarsely. Cold stole over him. The purging field urged him to hurry. "Finalla, I sent her to the Traveling Ring. If we don't stop her, she'll bring back reinforcements."

"How?" Arlon swallowed. "How do we stop her?"

Rodney couldn't help but roll his eyes. "She's an assessor. Once the locator beacon is activated, she'll get purged." His attention shot from one to the other. "Now, are we finished with the interrogation? Take your time. Atlantis has the power to blow you from the face of this planet, you know." He turned to march toward the trading town as all that he was faded in the greenish sunrise.

* * *

Merchants prepared their stalls for the morning's first buyers. Vex looked around when they walked among the stands, noticing the laughing children, the small families, some with a scientist in training in tow out to get the freshest supply of the day. Aside from the scientists, how many of them would get purged? Despite what Rodney had told them, did the beacon really distinguish between different levels of intelligence? Or did it just latch on to those who weren't as power hungry as Kethel, or as insanely cruel as Arlon?

He didn't like the way Arlon had toyed with the Lantian soldier, eliciting a slow death. Taking a life should be done quickly. This cruel act had nothing to do with ensuring the safety of the Settlement and it didn't bode well for the future of Eirulan. Although the rest of the hunt had gone their separate ways that still left Arlon and the scientist who, fully purged, was a danger to be reckoned with. Still, if he couldn't find a way to stall the activation of the locator beacon, then Finalla would become as mercilessly empty as Kethel had made McKay to be.

He shook his head.

He could not let that happen.

* * *

Rodney stopped in the middle of the marketplace his mouth watering at the smells coming from several food-stands off to the side. This early in the morning, the heavy scent of baked bread wafted over the town's center. How long had it been since he had eaten?

_Right, the sooner I activate the beacon, the sooner I can eat. _

He turned and pulled out the antenna from the device; its black rectangular casing looking a little like that of a remote control. Although no more than a small transmitter, the beacon carried chips of fine-tuned ore that locked onto waves with a purging frequency and strengthened them.

He lifted the device toward the sky, lowering it with a cry when fingers crushed his wrist.

Vex's dark eyes pierced into him. "Do not do this," he ordered.

The plea bunched Rodney's stomach, invoked a memory of another time, another place when those who helped him 'escape' had tried to stop him from returning to Kethel. He gritted his teeth. Vex's command clashed with the Will of the Settlement. He tried to pull his hand free, but the Eirulan, holding on tight, stepped right up to face.

"You do this, and we will all get purged," Vex continued with urgency in his voice.

"Vex," Arlon hissed, yanking the man backwards with brute force.

Rubbing his sore wrist, Rodney noticed to his dismay that people stopped to watch. _Oh no, no, no. This is not good._ _If the crowd gets wind of the fact that a major purging is on its way, we could have a riot on our hands._ He shot Arlon a panicked looked but the huntsman was too busy trying to restrain the rebelling Eirulan.

"I saw what happened to Sheppard, McKay," Vex spoke loudly, struggling free from Arlon's grip. The huntsman reached for his weapon but not before Vex managed to hurl something small and sharp in Rodney's face.

Rodney caught the metal in reflex, groping to hold on to the beacon as well.

"The way Arlon here enjoyed taking his life." Vex yelled, turning toward Arlon. "Those are the people that will be in charge, McKay. There will be no more Settlement, only those unfortunate enough to be enslaved by Kethel and his insane lust for power!"

McKay felt his eyes widen. _No, I'm only doing what's best for Eirulan! _He lifted the chain in his fingers, only to stumble back when Vex and Arlon simultaneously activated their whips mere inches from his body. He staggered into the middle of a group of huddled scientists with empty expressions on their faces, their owners pressing in from all sides, talking nervously amongst themselves. His anxiety rose up a notch, his eyes fluttering toward the metal in his hand.

The world around him faded out of existence.

He stared at the silvery plates.

_Dog tags. _

At their consequences.

_John's tags. _

At what he had done.

_Oh God. _

Something clicked, a deep burning pain connecting him to all he ever was, all he had fought for even when wearing the bracelet. The sun burning his cheeks told him inexorably that he'd left Sheppard behind… too long… too long ago. He wanted to scream but a dead feeling inside choked his words, crushing him far more efficiently than any purging bracelet could ever have done.

He blinked and took in the crowd. Children, families, purged scientists, all stared fearfully at the scene unfolding in the middle of the town square. From their frightened tones, Rodney could tell that they knew what was at stake.

"They don't know what's good for them, McKay!" Arlon yelled. "Now activate the beacon! It's what Kethel wants you to do. It's the Will of the Settlement!"

Ice stole in his veins, so cold Rodney knew that this time the purging field would kill him if he didn't obey. He gritted his teeth, clenched the tags with one hand and hit the switch on the locator beacon with the other.

Above him, the greenish sky turned red.

* * *

**Tbc**


	15. Chapter 15

_**Author's note: **__thank you all for putting my mind at ease concerning the ShepWhump in the previous chapter. Also, there's this little matter of McKay not acting like his usual self. So, let us see how strong willed he really is…_

* * *

**Chapter 15**

The cold chaining Rodney's mind loosened and fell away. The purging whispers silenced as abruptly as the hum of the whips, the weapons along with half a dozen bracelets worn by the scientists fizzling and dying down. People yelling incoherently took in the red sky with fright in their eyes. Scientists -bound for most of their lives- either stared ahead in bewilderment or walked around in sheer panic.

"What-" Arlon said, staring at his useless fire flash. His voice was cut short by the sound of a fist hitting bone and Vex's grunt of satisfaction.

Rodney sank down on his knees, voices and screams merging like waves crashing on a shore. For a moment he felt nothing. No remorse, no grief, no hurt. Then the shaking began. His chest felt as if his heart had stilled, his fingers going numb as his insides ached with guilt-born pain rising to unbearable levels. _No, no, no, I didn't leave him like that… I couldn't. I… _"I… rigged the beacons," he whispered at Vex who'd stepped in." He looked up. "I didn't remember until a few minutes ago." His explanation sounded as hollow as he felt.

"You changed the purging field?" Vex asked, lowering himself on his haunches.

"Into a planet wide repulse shield the moment the beacon was activated."

Vex's jaw dropped. "You skipped the purging stage altogether?"

Rodney nodded, letting his chin drop. "Who needs fields and bracelets, huh? When ultimately all you want is to protect the Settlement."

"And ensuring Eirulan's safety is why the bracelet allowed you to create a repulse shield behind Kethel's back," Vex concluded exasperated.

_Oh yes, that was very clever, McKay, saving the planet and failing to notice the humongous flaw in the plan. _He shook his head and looked at the sky through hazed eyes. "I forgot," he whimpered. "About Sheppard…"

"The past is the past, Doctor." Vex straightened. "There is no need to dwell in it."

Holding back an acidic retort, Rodney pulled himself together on bitter thoughts alone. His legs felt heavy as stone as he drew himself up and waved at Arlon lying sprawled on the ground. _He likes to leave his victims just short of death, let the desert do its job._ "Is there any chance…?" He swallowed. "When you left him, was Sheppard…?"

"If you want to know," Vex sighed. "Yes," he finished softly.

Rodney took in the crowd, the freed scientists, and the families now amassing on a slowly waking Arlon, their mood growing ever more hostile. They remembered all too well who had kept the thumbscrews on all these years. He didn't feel an inch of pity. The leader of the hunt got what was coming to him. "Finalla's probably safe and sound in Atlantis by now," he spoke in a thick voice. "Could you find it again? The place where Arlon…." He couldn't finish his sentence.

Understanding dawned in the Eirulan's dark eyes. "I will get us some transport," he assented softly.

Not feeling much of anything anymore, Rodney watched him go.

* * *

Sitting on the cart's front seat, Vex glanced sideways at McKay. Having just finished a piece of bread he had taken from an abandoned food stand back at the trading town, the Lantian stared forlornly out into the desert.

_He freed the scientists, everyone, including himself and rendered Kethel powerless in the process_. Vex had trouble fathoming the scope of what had happened and felt humbled by McKay's intelligence. The man was as dangerous as Sheppard had been only on an entirely different level. "So, I take it, it is not just the trading town that is in an uproar?"

Rodney shrugged. "Fire flashes, bracelets, probably even the 'barrier' on this end of your gate, rendered inert all over the planet, side effect of the shield."

"What about the mines?"

McKay shook his head. "They're too deeply embedded in the rock. Besides, the underground ore's what keeps the shield running. Kethel probably won't figure out something is wrong until he lets one of the scientists up to the surface."

Vex smiled grimly. Change never came easy for him, but he could see how this could work. A nudge at the right place and Kethel could have an uprising on his hands. His mood darkened as another thought struck him. "Sheppard, he never stopped believing in you." He looked up. "That's why he gave me the tags."

Rodney turned toward him, and for a moment the man was an open book, then he snapped his head away and jumped off the cart, and for the first time, Vex had no trouble at all reading the intense emotions behind those swift angry steps.

* * *

The copse of dry bushes was nothing remarkable along the bank. They had made a detour to cross the river where the water ran shallow. Heading up stream again, they had paced the bantha, thereby shortening the journey to only a couple of hours. Maybe Vex was wrong, Rodney thought wryly. After all, what would he know about comas, pulse points or headstrong colonels? But as soon as he noticed the body, he knew it was Sheppard. He was laying face down, arm stretched in front of him with clenched fingers as if he'd been in terrible pain.

Rodney's breathing quickened as he dropped on his knees. Blinking rapidly, he turned John over. Not a moan escaped his friend's lips, his body caught in an awful stillness brought on from more than sleep alone. In death Sheppard looked almost peaceful, but he could see the lines of tension in the man's features, the fight he must have given before succumbing to the hunt, to Arlon's execution, none of which would have happened if Rodney hadn't betrayed him. If he had just bee-lined it to the gate, had not led them into that trap.

He wouldn't be holding a cold hand caked with dried blood.

Overwhelmed with heart stopping grief, he clenched Sheppard's shirt as he gasped to the point of hyperventilation, tears emoting out of every inch of his body, except his eyes. He didn't cry. Because he had no right, no God damn right to feel so devastated.

This was all his fault and he had to live with it for the rest of his life.

Gently, he released his grip; his breathing sounding harsh and rasping over the rushing of the water. Leaning in one more time, he checked John's pulse point. He frowned, frantically looking Sheppard over from head to toe. _No blue lips, no rigor mortis, just cold, and his wound…_ He ripped away the bandages, his hand coming away with fresh blood. "He's still bleeding," he whispered hoarsely. "He's not dead."

"What?" Vex asked perplexed.

"I thought I felt a-" He pressed his fingers against John's neck. "There, there it is again!" Elated he looked up. "He's not dead, Vex."

"But, how do you know?"

"Because his heart's still beating," he explained grimly and removed John's tack vest to lean in and press his ear against the chest. "It's slow… too slow," he said, turning his friend in the recovery position that basic training had taught him to do. "He's breathing, but barely."

"But that doesn't make sense! He's been out here all night!"

Vex's confusion mirrored Rodney's own. He pulled of his jacket and put it on Sheppard. "The herbs," he said and looked up. "Before she left, Finalla gave him the last of the Valerian root."

"Uncut?" Vex narrowed his eyebrows. "Uncut it is said to quicken the heart rate, returns you your strength for a short while. However, if you use it for a longer period of time, you will die."

"We're not Eirulans, Vex. The root must be an adrenal stimulator." He rubbed Sheppard's arms and legs to get the man's blood flowing again. "I'm guessing Arlon never touched him? That he let the effects of the whip do its job?"

"Two fire flashes," Vex admitted. "I refused to use mine, so he took that one as well. But you are correct." His voice turned bitter. "He reveled in simply watching him die."

Rodney gritted his teeth. "The root must have kept his heart going. That's why he's still alive." _That and because he's too damn stubborn to die_. He looked up at the red sky. No chance John would recover with the shield running. "We need to get him away from here."

Fear ran rampant through his system as they carefully hoisted his friend up on the straw covered cart bed. He felt pressed for time. John's heart could still give out, no matter how strong he was, and then there was the very real possibility that yes, he lived, but might never wake up from this coma again. _Just hang in there, Sheppard. _He thought grimly. "How far is the gate?"

Vex turned from his position at the reins. "We will not make it before nightfall."

_Okay, I can do this… Just… keep him warm. _He dragged John into his lap as the cart lurched forwards and swiped the straw in around his friend to stave off the oncoming cold of the desert evening. He hoped the stiff breeze ruffling the straw didn't signal a severe weather change because he seriously doubted John would last another night, let alone survive a raging storm like the one that had hampered their flight on that first day.

The hard soil made for a rough ride and Rodney leaned in frequently to make sure John was still breathing. After two hours the waterway to their left had all but disappeared and Vex had navigated their rickety transport onto the ever widening dry riverbed. Although their ride smoothed out, McKay worriedly eyed the clouds rushing in overhead. Night was setting in and the temperature was dropping fast.

The flat stone surface of the riverbed didn't provide any cover. Before long, a freezing cold wind whipped at Rodney's shirt. An hour later the horizon had vanished in swirls of darkness. Gushes of sharp air displacements battered his skin and sucked the air out of his lungs. _Oh God. This is bad. _Rocks and dust carried by the icy storm burned with their impact and he flung himself over to protect Sheppard.

The bantha labored forward, seemingly unperturbed while Vex sat huddled on the front seat. Neither one of them were wearing enough protection against the elements raging around them. "We need to find some cover!" Vex yelled.

Rodney lifted his head in an effort to get heard above the storm. "If we stop now, he'll die!"

"If we do not, we will all die! The storm will increase until it freezes our skin, our breath, our life blood!"

In the pitch black darkness, Rodney couldn't see a thing, no cliff face, let alone the cave system housing the Stargate. He didn't know if they were even going in the right direction. Panicking, he looked down at John. Although shielded from the worse of the storm, Sheppard suddenly twitched than stilled. "Damn it!" He ripped open the jacket, frantically feeling for a heart beat, but his numb fingers didn't find anything. _No, no, no, no. _

"Hang on!" Vex suddenly yelled. "I'm going to create us some shelter!"

Rodney was just in time to grab onto John and brace himself when the cart suddenly lurched in a ninety degree turn. Thrown off balance, he scrambled to keep a hold of Sheppard as Vex pulled their transport to a halt. The storm viciously raised beyond anything Rodney had ever known. Deadly cold raked his body, Ice winds pummeling into his freeze burned skin to the point of agonizing knife stabbing pain. Fighting exhaustion, he dragged John out of their transport and into the leeway the now lying down bantha provided. The beast rumbled lazily, ruminating on its food.

Gasping for breath, Rodney dropped on all fours as vertigo assaulted him. His lungs were freezing and a sharp headache rose, washing out the burning pain in his chest. His exposure to the ore even though his gene was only artificial, finally took its toll. He stared at John, grasping at his shirt.

He couldn't muster the air to perform CPR.

Shocked, he noticed that John was already gone. He slid sideways to the ground, despair taking away the last of his breath. Besides him, Vex had pressed himself deep into the fur of the bantha in an effort to stay warm. He would have done the same, if only he could move. _He'll survive, _he thought tiredly.

In the howling wind he could see Atlantis rising, the city's spires growing ever taller from the depths of the stormy ocean. He thought of the people he would leave behind, of Teyla, Ronon and for some strange reason of Jennifer Keller. He closed his eyes, feeling like he was soaring through the sky, could almost hear Sheppard's laughter and the engines of Jumper One fine tuned to perfection. The sound gradually faded and Rodney gladly let go.

* * *

**Tbc**


	16. Chapter 16

_**Author's notes: **__this is it! The final chapter. Now, for those of you who expect a big whopping infirmary comfort scene, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Since I've already laced the previous chapters with comfort, I chose to wrap things up differently. _

_(__Deep breath) here goes…_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 16**

Clenching her hands together to keep them from shaking, Finalla sat on the steps leading down to Atlantis' Traveling Ring. A loud noise attacked her senses, cascaded into an explosion, then settled into a quiet lapping sound. She shivered at the sight of the great river between the stars, barely contained within what these people called the gate. Yesterday, it had deposited her on the shore of this alien city with its graceful architecture. It's beauty doing nothing to dispel the fear ripping into her.

McKay's panic kept ringing in her ears, the memory mixing with Sheppard's determination to get the scientist home. Despite Sam and Teyla telling her that she was safe, that they would do everything in their power to get to John and Rodney, she could not get rid of the despair choking her.

Watching the rescue team emerging from their travel between the stars, she pressed trembling fingers on her lips. The soldiers, their faces marked with worry, carried two stretchers between them. One large man with dreadlocks draping over his shoulders, gently turned his burden over to the waiting healers, then stood back, looking like he didn't quite know what to do with himself. She saw her distress reflected in his eyes.

_That must be Ronon. _Tears welled up. Teyla was right. _He found them. It took a while, but he found them._

More healers descended on the still figures, their administrations rising to a frantic pitch when whatever they were doing to Sheppard did not seem to work. Teyla appeared alongside Ronon, her face drawn in the fractured lighting streaming in from the windows.

Covered in blankets and a mask that made his chest rise and fall, Rodney was quickly whisked away. Finalla flinched as the healers sent another jolt of energy through John's body. They kept working on Sheppard, their efforts quieting the world around them. Only when an irregular beep shattered the heavy silence did time seem to speed up again and she found her face wet with tears.

"You did this?"

Ronon stood in front of her on a lower step, his posture seething with anger. She cringed at his accusation. At the truth she could not deny.

He leaned in. "From now on, you don't come anywhere near them."

"Ronon!"

She jerked at Teyla's voice, her order, though friendly, clearly meant to rein in the large man. Ronon gave her a smile that did not reach his eyes. Finalla shivered as he stepped back. Tension drained from her body, leaving emptiness and distress in its wake.

She stood on shaking legs, flinching as someone gripped her shoulder. Whipping around, she sucked in a breath. "Vex," she whispered with overwhelming relief. His unexpected presence causing a sob to escape her throat. Try as she might, she couldn't contain the inner turmoil breaking her apart.

He pulled her in. "It is supposed to be an honor to serve the Settlement," he said softly as she buried herself into his shoulder, tears streaming from her eyes. "But when the beacon was about to be activated all I saw in those people's faces was fear." He sighed. "McKay was right to take out the purging stage."

She watched him through a watery vision, her confusion waning while he explained in between wonderful nonsense that John had never given up, that in the end, Rodney had remembered, had saved himself, the Settlement, and most importantly, had kept her out of harms way.

"But… we are traitors to Eirulan now." Sadness ran thick in her voice.

Vex shook his head. "I prefer to think of us as revolutionaries. Our people will have to accept the changes, Finalla." His expression turned to one of regret. "What I saw in Arlon's eyes when he took out Sheppard…" his voice trailed off. "I am not proud of what we have become."

She stared at the direction in which the healers had taken John. "Yes, we were wrong to turn on him, wrong to doubt his conviction that McKay was not fully purged."

Following her worried gaze, he nodded. "Perhaps our presentiment that he will not make it, is equally misplaced?"

"Is that what they gave us, a new way of thinking? Hope?" She smiled.

He gave her a soft kiss and then returned to smile. "I believe it is."

Finalla watched as Lantean soldiers made their way toward them. If Sheppard and McKay did not make it, then the chances were small that their mistrust would ever ease enough to meet again under better circumstances. She sighed, sending a prayer to the Ancestors that help had not come too late.

* * *

Light and noise attacked his senses, his chest cramped, making him gasp as sound dissolved into steady bleeps and voices.

"You should not be here." A soft female voice, so familiar it caused his throat to close.

"I am merely concerned for him." In the short silence, John stiffened. "These are a wonderful people, Teyla. They choose hope over despair. I can see why you joined them."

A sweet expression entered his memory, brown tinted skin, dark eyes; her face morphing into the harsh face of death. He recoiled, felt every thump of his heart hurting against his ribs. Only when something warm covered his hand did he let go of what felt like linen clenched between his fingers and heard fast paced bleeping slowing down.

"John, can you hear me?" Teyla's voice, mingled with sounds of machinery.

He struggled to open his eyes, trying to recall what happened.

"The ore does not want to let him go."

"He is a fighter, Finalla. Now, I would be grateful if you would go and get Doctor Keller, please. She is probably in the mess hall."

Teyla used her commanding voice. The one that told John she worked hard at keeping her composure. He would have grinned had he not been so damn tired. Teyla could have called Jennifer on the com, but she clearly wanted the Eirulan woman out of the way. He swallowed, blinking into Atlantis' ceiling lights. "Teyla?" He croaked, surprised at how shaken he sounded.

Her hand closed tightly over his. "It is okay, John. You are in the infirmary."

His memories were a blur of pain, anger and sadness; a whirlpool of emotions simmered beneath the surface and he swallowed again. Unable to regain control let alone keep his wayward feelings from showing, he gave up even trying to fool Teyla. "How?" he stammered, fatigue starting to drag him under.

"Ronon and Lorne took a jumper through Eirulan's nearest Stargate. By the time they reached you, a week had passed."

He nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"We also sent a rescue team through the gate the moment Finalla's information, that the shield was down, proved correct," she said softly. "They met up with the jumper and brought you safely back to Atlantis. You were lucky. If Rodney had not set his scanner to emit a homing signal, we never would have found you."

John frowned, distinctly remembering Rodney being nowhere in sight when the hunt had tracked him down. Emptiness hit him like a truck and he screwed up his features as the fog in his head cleared. "He… was with me?" He asked confused.

Teyla smiled. "He is okay. Jennifer released him this morning."

He stared at her, relief thick in his voice. "I…"

"Do not talk," she spoke quietly, her eyes full of understanding. "You are home. That is all that matters."

He nodded and let himself drift back into sleep.

* * *

"How is he doing?" Ronon caught Teyla as she left the infirmary, casting a worried expression. "I heard he woke up."

She shook her head, staring down the corridor back at sick bay. She felt greatly unsettled about the heavy emotions John had tried to hide from her. "I have never seen him this scared," she whispered, surprised to find her throat closing. Any other expedition member she would have told that John was doing fine and that regaining consciousness was a good sign. Not Ronon though. She owed him the truth and hoped Colonel Sheppard would not mind. Keeping her voice steady, she turned back to her team mate. "A lot more has happened out there than Vex and Finalla told us about in the debriefing, Ronon."

"You're saying they lied?" His concerned composure changed to an aggressive stance ready to pull the true facts out of the two unfortunate Eirulans.

Teyla felt her lip curl involuntarily. "Perhaps they are simply ignorant of certain aspects of the story. Knowing John, he probably kept a large part of the truth hidden from them."

"If you ask me all he needs is more time."

She sighed. Maybe Ronon was right. Both he and John were military men, used to deal with harsh experiences and move on. Something told her however -from the way the Colonel had reacted, and the way Rodney steered clear of him- that 'time' wasn't the only thing John needed.

* * *

Trying to catch up on several weeks' worth of science reports, McKay sat on the bed in his quarters, feet stretched in front of him, tapping away on his laptop. His eyes flicked to Teyla, but he kept his mouth firmly shut.

Jennifer tried again. "He's keeping everyone at arm's length. Last night, I tried to take his temperature and he threw the thing back in my face."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it," he murmured. He knew why. It wasn't just the nursing staff prodding him at the most inhumane hours of the night; it was the general presence of too many people in the infirmary.

"It has been two weeks, Rodney." Teyla sat down at his feet. "Why have you not gone to visit him?" Her genuine concern made him swallow hard. He was sure Teyla had seen it, even though he didn't lift his eyes.

"He doesn't need me. Not right now," he said, the pressure in his chest turning into anger.

"Look," Keller started. "What happened to you was terrible… horrible even, but we can't help either of you if you don't talk to us."

He sighed and closed his laptop. If John hadn't mentioned the whole 'the ore's also tugging free pesky feelings' thing, then he wasn't going to enlighten them. The last thing Sheppard needed was him breaking John's trust, again. "It's not as easy as that. Look, we were stuck on this planet from hell for a week, baring people with the emotional attention span of a louse and the bed side manner of your friendly neighborhood executioner. I think Sheppard's entitled to feel a bit grouchy."

"He can't stay in the infirmary forever, McKay. Either you talk to him, or I'm going to have to recommend counseling sessions," Jennifer countered.

"Oh yes, because that's just what he needs," he snapped, immediately feeling sorry but unable to pull back his words. He was still too jumpy, too conscious of what he thought and said to not feel guilty over every acidic remark afterwards.

"Rodney," Teyla caught his eyes, her expression one of understanding. "You have to start trusting your feelings again. You brought him home, did you not?"

He slumped back in his pillows and nodded. He was getting there, just not as fast as he liked. "Look, you want my advice?" He relented, avoiding her eyes. "I suggest you leave him alone for a while."

Both women watched him in silence and Rodney couldn't help thinking that if they'd put Sheppard through the same inquisition, the man wouldn't be in the infirmary for long anyway.

"Okay," Jennifer finally conceded. "I'll see if I can stall procedures for a while, but if you want me to clear you for off world duty, you had better work this out first."

* * *

GOD did it feel good to soar through the air like this!

John kicked Jumper One in the Ancient equivalent of higher gear and let the experience of effortless flight fill his senses. He contemplated toning down the inertial dampeners just a bit so he could feel the acceleration in his gut but judging by his still cramping muscles and general fatigue he conceded that it was probably not one of his best ideas.

He made a steep turn, rolled the craft over in a corkscrew move and then pulled up for a loop the loop as the ship sang in his head. Coming out of a downwards spiral, he let the jumper climb again, all the way up into lower orbit until the planet's blue and white splendor curved beneath him, contrasting starkly against the wide openness of black space.

He had really missed this, the freedom of just being alone with you and your thoughts with nothing but the proverbial wind in your face. He startled when Rodney's voice suddenly echoed out of the communications system.

"_Jennifer's throwing a fit you know."_

Eying the radio dubiously, because he was sure he'd mentally disabled the damn thing, a wry smile started to tug at the corner of his mouth. "You bypassed the system," he stated with a smirk, knowing he should feel more annoyed at the sudden intrusion than was actually the case.

"_Yeah, well. Keller has everyone in an uproar due to your untimely escape from the infirmary, and while Chuck sadly lacks the experience to reach you from the control room, I figured out days ago that you would make a bid for the Jumper as soon as your legs could carry you and… I uh… planned ahead."_

It wasn't hard to imagine the scientist's gloating expression accompanying the smug words. "It was getting pretty stuffy in there," John admitted. Although his body was on the way to full recovery, he was still overly sensitive to emotional stimuli. Not that he burst out crying or anything, but he did feel the overwhelming need to get away from all the concerned well wishes and smothering administrations. "I take it you're not in the control room then?"

"_Nope. Quarters. Bed rest. Etcetera. Closely guarded by Ronon and Teyla I might add. I think Sam's afraid I might vanish in a second jumper. They understand though, Ronon, and Teyla, why you're up there and not down here stuck in the infirmary. Ronon says he would have gone crazy days ago."_

He didn't know how to react to that. He figured Rodney understood how he felt and was glad that McKay had steered clear of him for a while, but he hadn't anticipated feeling this grateful about them both being safe and sound back home. "Thanks."

"_For what?"_

"Well, getting me home's on top of the list."

"_There's a list?"_

Perhaps it was because he felt safe up here in the jumper with the planet spread out underneath him, or perhaps it was because he realized that letting down his barriers wasn't the end of the world, that he decided to feed Rodney's ego for a change. "Let's just say I'm grateful to be alive."

Silence on the other end.

"McKay?"

"_We came too close though," _the quiet response came. _"And yes, of course I beat that bracelet, because hey. It's me we're talking about here." _

John grimaced.

"_But all the stuff with the dog tags and the faith you put in me?" _Rodney continued. _"You can't have known it was warranted. I could have waved them away to happily continue in ignorant bliss serving the Settlement. You… you wouldn't have made it."_

"This 'what if' of yours," John threw back at him in an effort to dispel the fear in his friend's voice, "is that with or without the changes you made to the beacons right under Kethel's nose? I read your report, Rodney."

"_Hmpf, yes."_

"Besides, I carried the last of the power bars. Sooner or later you would have gravitated back to the only worthy sugar source on the planet."

"_Impossible, I checked for them myself and they were finished." _

"What you did was leave me alone in the wagon to pack up right before we abandoned it. I found a couple of power bars, tucked them in my BDU's pockets."

"_But… but we were starving!" _He vividly imagined McKay's eyes going wide and grinned.

"Yes, that's why we needed to learn to rely on native food." He reached down and lifted the current object of their discussion out of its respective safe place.

"_You mean the herbal glob that tasted as Bantha vomit! Oh that's just great." _

John refrained from talking as he had his mouth full.

"_Are you eating? You're eating one right now, aren't you?! Do you know how long that's been in there! That's just… disgusting!"_

John swallowed, and then smiled at the acidic remarks shattering the airwaves telling him more than anything that Rodney would be okay even though the man didn't believe so yet himself. "Relax. I appropriated them from supplies this morning. Hospital food only gets you so far. So, what's for diner?"

"_What? How should I know," _Rodney's grudging reply came. The quick change of topic seemed to take him by surprise. _"Chicken casserole or something." _His voice suddenly rose to a hopeful pitch. _"Does that mean you're coming down?"_

"Depends," John admitted.

"_On what? If it's Keller, don't worry about her. I think I can persuade her to go easy on you." _Before John could mull over how Rodney would manage such a feat, the scientist continued. _"And before you ask, Vex and Finalla left this morning for Eirulan to go look for Moira and help with the revolution that we kind of um… incited."_

"Good. _Not_ that they're the reason I'm up here."

"_I know."_

"I really needed the space."

"_Yes, you told me already. So, team diner, fifteen minutes?"_

"Only if you promise to be nice," he teased. Guilt over some of the command decisions he'd made still tugged at him, but the fact that he'd managed to get Rodney home, that he could let his guard down to rely on someone else for a change, made him feel strangely relieved.

_"Nice!? I have you know I diverted Teyla's entire arsenal of Athosian feel good pep talks away from you! Not to mention the trouble I went through to get all the others leave you alone! You owe me!"_

Laughing at McKay's indignant objections, he gave in. _That I do, _he thought and pushed the jumper down towards home.

**THE END**

* * *

_I know some of you would have liked to see more of Finalla, but this has always been in essence a Sheppard story, so the main focus and ending is on him. Also, I know it may seem that I skipped the part where McKay is dealing with what he has done but I started to write a scene concerning this and it just felt superfluous. The fact that McKay saved everyone in the end kind of lessens the guilt he might feel and also restores most of what self-confidence he lost. The rest will have to heal in time, and that is mentioned throughout this last chapter._

_Now, for the official part:  
__Acknowledgement goes to my sister Skandranonn, to LADragon, Puddles1311, Sterenyk Strey, and those that pointed out grammar errors, for your comments and suggestions that helped better the story.  
__A thank you goes to all you readers and reviewers, and those who consistently reviewed throughout the chapters. You know who you are!  
__A BIG warm hug goes to my beta and friend Starsky's Strut who has spent the better part of a year plowing through multiple drafts and rewrites of this story. I couldn't have done this without her._

_I definitely will keep writing in this fandom for now, but after the intensity of this story, I need to write something that is a bit more lighthearted and has a pacing that is a little slower. There sure will be angst though! And (emotional) whump! Because I can't do without! And who knows… after my two previous stories turned into a Shep one, maybe this time I will actually succeed in doing a Rodney driven story! Fingers crossed! _

_Thank you all for reading! _


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